Rings, Boyfriends, and Smarmy Vampires
by Mysterious Loser
Summary: Cid wanted to throw his drink in Cloud’s face, but that would’ve been a waste of a good margarita. And he didn’t want his friends to get any ideas that he was bitter about Shera and her new boyfriend. Because he wasn’t. Rated for profanity. COMPLETED!
1. Spewed Tea and Rude Awakenings

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII. Bradley's mine, and so is Fabio, the one and only exclusive mailman…that only appears in this one chapter. XD

**A/N:** And here's my next tryout. I've already finished this story, but it's divided into parts. I'll update within time, but I'm mostly concerned with what you, the readers, think. It's my first REAL Final Fantasy VII story, and Cid's one of my favorite characters. This takes place shortly after Sephiroth's defeat, and is a little AU to some of the information in Dirge of Cerberus. Let me know what you think.

By the way, this story is mostly Cid-centric, which means that it's more than curse-friendly, thanks to my counterpart in this story. If cursing offends any virgin ears, then turn back. Turn back I say!

**Chapter One**

**Spewed Tea and Rude Awakenings**

\/\/\/

"Cid, pay attention to what I'm saying!"

The pilot avoided eye contact with the gunman as he brushed past him, carrying a rather large and heavy box of odds and ends.

"I _heard_ what ya said the first time, Vincent. I ain't bloody deaf."

Cid could hear the man shuffle behind him. "Then repeat what I just said."

"I don't gotta repeat nuthin' ya said," the foulmouthed man replied, setting the box down in the corner of the shed. He straightened his back and wiped the sweat from his brow. With his other hand, he adjusted the cigarette hanging out from between his lips.

He grew startled when Vincent's hand reached forward and snatched the burning stick from out of Cid's mouth. He began to shake it furiously at the pilot.

"I didn't come all the way here to be ignored. You asked me to help you sort things out in the shed today and that's what I'm here for."

"Sure coulda fooled me…" Cid muttered, his voice barely above audibility.

"What was that?"

"Uh…nuthin' important."

He could feel Vincent's eyes burning into the back of his head and it suddenly made him even more uncomfortable. _Damn, why the hell does it suddenly seem like the temperature has gone up twenty freaking degrees? And the space is closin' in on me, too. Shit._

"Cid, I'm just concerned. I think what bothers me the most is because I see you making the same mistakes that I already have. There was a time when I let the wrong choices happen because of my reluctance. That is why I am cursed now."

"So yer sayin' that because you made some shitty choices in the past I'm gonna wind up the same as you?" Cid Highwind wanted to laugh. He reached for his stolen cigarette, but Vincent let it drop to the ground and stomped it out with his foot.

The pilot frowned. _Bastard…_

"All I'm saying is that those choices have cost me true happiness. It's been two days since our return and I'm still uncertain of where I can go. Everyone seems to have a place but me."

"Then why the hell ya pickin' on me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Vincent shook his head. "But I'm afraid that you might."

Cid forced a sigh. Deep down, he knew that the EX-Turk was being honest, a trait that others rarely caught. He admired the man, despite his monotonous sin crap that was always ongoing, and he knew that any advice offered by Vincent Valentine was something worth taking.

But Gods! This was too much! The guy had come early that morning, as promised, to help clean out the shed, but spent most of his time in circuitous lectures revolving around Cid's personal life—like **he** was some kind of expert! "Tell her before it's too late," were his first words and had gone in one ear and out the other until the pilot realized what the other man was hinting at.

_Like hell that he'd have any clue as to what he's talkin' about. And he dun know a __**damn**__ thing 'bout me an' Shera._

"Have you given any thought as to what would happen if she moved out on you?"

A laugh echoed inside of the shed and Cid turned to the man with a smile on his face. "And where would she go? Costa Del Sol?"

"Don't tempt the female mind, Cid," Vincent warned. "What if she met another man?"

The laughter was gone, and, mentally, the pilot's spine became slightly crooked. "Uh…are you asking if I would care?"

"I _know_ you'd care."

"Psh!" Cid replied, almost immediately whirling his attention back to the large pile of junk in the corner of the shed. There was a large mound and the pilot hadn't _quite_ had the time to sort through it. "You've been sleepin' too long in a box, Vincent. Times have changed an' ya don't know the first thing 'bout me. In fact, I've been thinking about leaving this hellhole for quite some time. And ya know what?" Looking back at the other man, he said, "I think I might just do it."

"Can I ask you a question, then?"

"Isn't that what you've already been doin' for the past damn hour?"

"Can I ask where you went on the day Cloud gave us off to find out what we were fighting for?"

A moment of unexpected silence passed between them.

"Whaddya _mean_ 'where did I go,' Vincent!? I was here acourse."

"Here in Rocket Town?"

"No, here in the damn shed. _Yes,_ here in Rocket Town!"

"And what happened?"

Cid was still hunched over. _Next time I'll ask Cloud to come by. Or I'll just do the work by myself. It ain't worth all the hassle._ "I went ta bed. What? Is this twenty questions now? You the Neo-Turks or something? The hell you wanna know!?"

Cid instantly regretted his choice of words, but did not apologize. He silently blamed it on the loss of his temper. _Stupid Vincent should remember that I don't have __**that**__ much patience for idiotic crap like that._

"To bed? You…You didn't say anything to her?"

"_Shit_ Vincent! The hell ya want from me!? I went to bed, all right!"

The former Turk crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Cid skeptically.

"What? I didn't just hang out at the bar if _that's_ what yer thinkin'!"

It got silent again after that. Cid went back to pretending to sort through the junk while Vincent stared down at a vacant corner—the only one in the shed, as a matter of fact. Cid could hear him exhale from behind.

"All right, Cid. I believe you. I just wanted to help you—"

"Don't need no help."

The pilot recognized the sound of the shed door opening. "I'll show myself out. Sorry for wasting your time."

Cid only snorted.

\/\/\/

"…Well, it's only been two days now, but I'm still trying to be careful." Shera twirled the phone cord around her tiny finger. "I don't want him to get suspicious." She looked over her shoulder at the door that led to the backyard, as though anticipating something. She turned back to the phone. "It's getting too risky to talk on the phone. How about you send another letter?"

Again she diverted her attention back to the door. The knob was jiggling. A small gasp escaped between her lips and she held the receiver close to her mouth, whispering, "I can't talk anymore. Have to go…" The phone was quickly placed onto the hook as Cid walked into the house, sweaty and tired. He saw her standing by the telephone.

"Who was that?" he asked after a moment of gazing from it to her.

"Uh…oh that?" She clasped her fingers behind her back, spun on one foot, and briskly moved to the kitchen. "Wrong number."

"Wrong number?" he quirked an eyebrow. "Sure seemed to be quick ta get off the phone soon as I came in."

"No, no, it was a wrong number." She adjusted the glasses on her little nose, nervously. "Can I make you some tea, Captain?"

"Whatever." He turned around and walked into the bathroom. She could hear the sound of running water and figured that he was washing the grime from his hands. "Did Vincent walk outta here?" Cid called out.

"Yes, I saw him leave. Why?"

"No reason," he muttered, almost too low for Shera to hear. "He was jus' being a jerk."

"Captain, that's not a very nice thing to say," she remarked.

The water instantly turned off. "Yeah? Well, who asked you!?"

She shrunk back against the stove, even though he wasn't there in the room with her. Just his very words were powerful and harsh enough to make her shrivel down to the size of a bug. _I wonder why he's so upset…_

He came out a moment later, drying his hands with one of their good towels. He tossed it at her. "Never mind. Forget the tea. I'm gonna go out fer a while." Cid grabbed his jacket and almost stormed out of the house. Shera gazed from the door, to the kettle on the stove, and then to the phone on the wall. She bolted around the table and grabbed the phone from off of the receiver, quickly punching in a number.

\/\/\/

Vincent was pissed. No. He was BEYOND pissed. He felt the sudden urge to overturn chairs in the bar and smash drinks with his artificial, yet very cool looking, arm. Instead he remained there, shoulders squared, and staring eye to eye with the bartender.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Valentino?"

"It's _Valentine,_" Vincent inattentively corrected. It was strange, really. His mind was set on _everything else_ but his name. "Can you repeat what you just said?"

"I said that…a-yup," the fatter man nodded, "I saw him here that day. Came in here with five-hundred gil and nearly drank himself into oblivion. It got to the point where he was so plastered that I began swapping his drinks with plain old cream soda."

Vincent was still again. _He lied to me. I should've known…_

"After about two in the morning, he spent the whole night in the bathroom, praying to the Porcelain King."

There was suddenly an unpleasant sound as Vincent ran his sharp claws across the burnish of the counter like nails on a chalkboard. Four lighter streaks of brown were left behind once he finished scratching up the counter. The bartender stared from the damage done to the countertop back up to Vincent.

"You gonna pay for that?"

\/\/\/

"Hey Cid! Come get your mail!"

The mailman removed his cupped hands from around his mouth and looked to Cid's bedroom window. He mumbled something about "arson" and "stolen planes" before glancing at his watch and realizing that he still had to finish the morning run. He knew that he shouldn't have to be standing outside the Highwind residence, but for the last three days since Cid had been home from whatever he had been doing (fishing or lamenting his losses at Gold Saucer), there had been a violent streak of mail theft. Now, Fabio the mailman wasn't _quite _sure what it was that Cid had that was so important that his mail would get stolen (hell, it was strange altogether that it was _only_ Cid's mail that had been stolen), but Cid had called him everyday, uttering new strings of curse words that Fabio had never heard before. Even the sputtered phrases in Wutain was enough to make him think about taking it up as a second language.

But that wasn't the point. The phone calls _had_ to stop. So, when Cid's mail was delivered, Fabio decided to stand outside the window, hands cupped around his mouth, and call out to the foulmouthed pilot before he got his butt shot off by other impatient receivers on the route.

The window finally slid open and Cid groggily stuck his head outside (Fabio could hear him muttering more of his magical vocabulary as he came into contact with the cold), rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Who the hell is callin' me!?" Cid nearly roared. "I ain't in the damn military anymore!"

"Come get your mail before it gets stolen again, Cid!" Fabio replied, not bothering to answer the blonde pilot.

"Son of a bitch…" Cid seemed astounded to see the mailman outside his window, a gold Chocobo warking behind him with a sash tossed over its back like a saddle that had the "Go Go-a-Lo!" postal emblem imprinted on it. He immediately flipped Fabio the "no-no" finger. "You asshole! It was my day off today, and ya had to wake me up fer _that!?_"

"Dear Lord," Fabio shook his head. "There's just **no** pleasing _some_ people! Fine! As of today, you can come down to the _station_ to get your mail, Cid! I can't _take_ this anymore!" the mailman, in fit and rage, hopped onto his Chocobo, lightly tapped it on its side, and trotted off down to the next house.

"Quitter!" Cid called after him.

\/\/\/

Cid stomped outside, an unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, and wrapped the blue robe around himself. He stared off into the distance where the mailman had gone and kept a mental note to complain about the postal service's lousy mailmen. He violently yanked the lid open and threw his hand inside, eyes still on the trail where Fabio had cowardly retreated to. "Little piece of sh—" _Wait a minute…what's this?_

Curious, Cid withdrew several envelopes, but the one on top seemed…different. He turned to look at it, grabbing the other end with his free hand. The envelope was light blue with amazing handwriting in black calligraphy. The one thing that had caught his attention in the first place, however, was the weightiness of it.

Cigarette still pursed in between his lips, Cid read the recipient's name aloud, "Shera…432 Post Aven—Rocket Town…From…Bradley Richton…Who the…Hell's Bells!"

If anyone had been watching, they would've seen Cid trip on his porch steps in the process of dashing back inside of his house. Once he had successfully picked himself back up (and made sure no one was watching for a good laugh), he tore the door open and stormed back inside.

"**SHERA!**" he screamed. The woman scuttled down the stairs, clad in her own light pink robe, like there was a fire on the first floor.

When she saw him standing there, out of breath and rubbing his sore knee from which he had fallen on, she blinked, her face unreadable.

"Yes, Captain? Something wrong?"

"Dammit, woman! When the mailman comes, ya gotta get outside before those bratty mail thieves highjack the mail again! Make me do all the work around here…DAMN!" He limped past her and tossed the letter on top in her direction. He looked at the rest of the letters in his hand and frowned. _Bills…Bills…Gods, not __**jury **__duty __**again!**_

At the sound of not quite stifled laughter, he turned his head, his bottom lip sticking out with a frown. He glanced at Shera over his shoulder. She had already plucked the paper out from the envelope and he could smell something like…lavender…or some other kind of nasty crap like that.

"The hell you laughin' at?"

She didn't answer him at first, and it irritated him even more. Instead, she continued to read the letter like Cid wasn't even there. His frown deepened. Shera finally began to giggle like a lovestricken schoolgirl and the pilot's curiosity grew. What on _earth_ was she reading?

"Shera?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, what?" It seemed like a struggle for her to pull her eyes away from the letter and face him.

He pointed to the letter in her hand, "Who's that from?"

"Oh, a friend," she replied, like it was no big deal at all.

_Oh, a "friend." Yeah…Whatever._ He realized that, sometime between the receiving of the letter and the falling on the steps, he had lost his cigarette. _Aw, crap! _"Friend?"

"Yes. We've known each other for quite some time." She held the letter gingerly to her chest, a sort of dreamy look overtaking her normally timid and delicate face. "It's been a while since we've heard from each other. We just got back into contact!"

"I'm happy to hear that," he said flatly. "So what? She comin' to visit or somethin'?"

"_He,_" Shera corrected with emphasis. "And yes, he is."

"Where's he staying?" From the look on her face, he could grasp the concept of where this was heading and he quickly shook his head. "Forget it. He ain't stayin' here."

"But Captain—"

"No," he told her. "They have a real nice…cheap…hotel down at the other end of town. I'm sure the innkeeper would love takin' his money from 'im."

"Why not?" she pouted, her tiny cheeks puffed out and her eyebrows arched like she was going to release the waterworks or something. "We have plenty of room."

"One, this is _my_ house, n' case ya forgot. Two, this house is a pigsty, Shera! We ain't gonna let guests stay over and admire yer handiwork!"

"I _just_ dusted everything yesterday, Captain. And it wouldn't be any…"

He quickly turned and tipped a chair over. Then he stood over it and pointed, "See, Shera? Stuff falling down all by itself? Can't have any of that—"

"You knocked that over!"

"—can we? Now, for the last time, the answer is and always _is_ gonna be 'no.'"

"Captain!"

He pointed a stern finger at her. "Dammit, woman, don't backtalk me! I said he can't stay here and that's _that!_"

It was only after she turned, ran back up the stairs, slammed the door to her room, and the pictures from sightseeing trips to Mideel fell from the walls did Cid's finger crumble in midair and his arm slowly return to his side.

"Stupid woman," he muttered, though his eyes strayed up the stairs. "What? She think that I run some hotel? Invitin' her frat buddies ta come and stay 'ere…They can both just kiss my ass." Giving a sharp turn, he stormed into the bathroom and violently threw the door closed, resulting in several more pictures to fall from the wall.

"SHIT!" he yelled from inside.

\/\/\/

Cloud was staring at his friend with a blank look on his face as Cid deliberately stomped on another tulip along the side of the road.

"Damn things choke the life out of the scenery."

Cloud knew that this was usually _not_ the way the pilot would react to something as trivial as a flower. There was something wrong and…by the way that Cid had just hurled that rock at that passerby, Cloud didn't doubt that it was something serious.

"Stupid kid, hoggin' the damn street. What? He think he's fuckin' **KING** of the road or somethin'!?"

"Cid," the blonde ex-mercenary began, his lips running slightly dry. "Maybe you shouldn't come with me to run deliveries anymore."

"What, Spike? You think I'm not _good_ 'nuff to help do yer damn business? You turnin' into Vincent or something?"

"Huh?"

"Dat's right," the pilot almost snorted. "He comes to my house yesterday ta help me with some stuff in the shed and he spends his whole damn time nagging at me 'bout how I gotta tell Shera something 'fore it's too late."

Cloud was lost now. He felt as though he had completely lost touch with Cid back when the man chased little Jimmy from across the street down the road because he had accidentally thrown his ball into the pilot's yard. Cid had been mumbling and grumbling since then, lighting cigarette after cigarette, and destroying everything that came within a two mile radius of him. The younger blonde tried to sidestep away from Cid slightly without drawing any attention to himself.

He was surprised when the man said nothing but looked to the sky instead, as though there were a lot weighing heavily on his mind. "Hey, Cloud?" the man began after a bout of silence. His voice was slightly calmer, which took Cloud aback for a second time.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Whaddya you think of predictions?"

"Huh?" It seemed like such an inane question, but Cloud was afraid to refuse to answer it because of the consequences. _He's just now settled down. No sense in having him throw rocks at __**me.**_ "Uh…I…believe…in them, I guess…" Cloud shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"Geez, they're the stupidest things in the world!" Cid's voice was loud again. "I mean _shit!_ Vincent and his voodoo crap!"

The mercenary-gone-delivery-boy cleared his throat, straightening his collar. "What did he say?"

The pilot's head suddenly whirled around to meet Cloud's blue eyes. "He asked me if I was all right if Shera moved out and I said 'course it was and he asked if I cared if she found another man and I said fine and he said that I would lose 'er if I didn't shape up and…"

"Woah, woah, Cid! You're talking **way **too fast for me to understand you!" Cloud made a "timeout" sign with his hands. "Where is this all leading?"

"I'm **tryin'** to tell ya if you'd quit interrupting!" The younger man's mouth snapped shut. "Some letter came in the mail today with this nasty flowery scent and it was addressed to Shera from this guy named 'Bradley Richton' or what the hell ever…"

It made _perfect_ sense now. Cid was jealous.

"Some _guy?_ Like…a friend or something?" Cloud asked.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Like a boy_friend?_"

"Shit! The hell if I know, Spike!"

"Well," Cloud rubbed his chin, still continuing side by side with his friend down the road. "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

Cid's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure if I want ya to."

"Well…**do** you mind if she moves out?"

"Hell no! What? Do I hafta repeat myself?"

Cloud frowned. _He's lying._ "Okay, and if she found another guy?"

"Good riddance!" Cid threw his arm up like he was tossing something over his shoulder. "Maybe I can get things done sooner then!"

_Faker._ But for the sake of it, Cloud decided to play along. "All right then, Cid, I don't think you have anything to worry about. If you get lucky, then it _will_ wind up being her boyfriend." Cloud tried to ignore the glare emitting from Cid's direction. Instead, he picked up his pace and said, "Let's finish up."

\/\/\/

Things went from bad to worse when Cid got home and found the place as dead as a doornail…minus the cliché. Shera was nowhere to be found, tea wasn't made, and everything was dark and dreary.

This was displeasing to Cid.

He flipped on the switch, glanced at his watch, mumbling a string of obscenities, and realized the time.

"Quarter past ten." His eyes shot up, the feeling finally settling in that he was alone. "Damn that woman. Where the hell did she get to?" Seating himself in his favorite recliner, Cid crossed one leg sloppily over the other, slouching back so that his arms were dangling off the side of the rests. He stared bitterly at the door, knowing that she had gone out.

"But with _who?_" were his words. She would _never_ be out this late by herself. She got way too paranoid very easily, and she hated being out at night alone.

He only sat there for a moment before jumping out of his chair and rushing to the window and opening it. _Too hot 'n here! Or is it jus' me? _ Then he began to pace back and forth, staring at the empty tea kettle from time to time. _Damn woman! Keeping me waiting after a long day's work!_

It wasn't like Cid was _worried_ about Shera, because he wasn't, but it was _her_ duty to do as she was told. _He_ was the one who had to go to work everyday, make all the money, and all else that daily life required. The _least_ she could do was be at home to make a cup of tea for him. _She ain't yer wife, Highwind. Aren't ya expecting a __**little **__too mu—_

"She lives in this house!" Cid justified it. "She can pull her weight and make me a cup of tea, too! I ain't gonna be the _only_ one who does work 'round 'ere!"

Huffing, Cid reached for a cigarette, realized he was out, and cursed loudly. He stormed into his den, tore the drawer from the desk, and found a lone packet inside with two cigarettes left. _All right!_ He smiled inwardly, relieved that he still had _one_ bit of happiness left.

Walking back into the front room, he lit up, tossing the match into the sink as he passed, and looked back to the door. "Still not home. When she gets back, I'll—"

He was cut off as he heard the sound of voices coming from outside. Cid crept to the window and eavesdropped, realizing that the voice belonged to Shera.

"…not sure. I think he's caught onto me taking the mail. It's been a few days now, but I didn't know that he would go so far as to involve the mailman."

Cid frowned so deep that he thought his lips were going to be pulled off from all the weight. _What!? So __**she's**__ the one who's been stealin' the mail! Why I outta…!_ Straightening his back, he charged towards the door, hands balled into large fists, and swung it open just as Shera's hand was in midair, reaching for the handle.

Her eyes were wide, startled, and her glasses fell to the tiny tip of her nose. The female engineer's mouth was agape and Shera's arm slowly returned to her side. Cid's attention turned from her to her companion. He was a tall man (looked young, but age was often deceitful) with slick ebony hair and wore a three-piece suit. One arm was around Shera's shoulders while the other was stuffed into his pocket. He was a very handsome man whose remarkable aura made Cid feel out of place standing there in the doorframe.

He suddenly realized that his cheeks were burning with anger. If there was one thing that Cid hated besides not having his tea on time and being out of cigarettes, it was feeling out of place.

"Uh…uh…Captain," Shera began, her eyes vacillating back and forth between him and her companion. "This is Bradley," she introduced, using her hand to gesture to the clean cut man. Her voice evened when she looked at Bradley and announced, "Bradley, this is the Captain."

Bradley extended his free hand. "Hi, I've heard so much about you," the man said with such a bright smile that it just made Cid want to knock all of his teeth out. He would've had a great time laughing at the black holes lining the guy's stupid grin rather than those damn white teeth.

But he took Bradley's hand instead, mumbling a slurred, "Hey."

The younger man turned to Shera, pulling his hand back, but still kept his other arm around her shoulders. Cid watched Bradley cautiously, his eyes narrowing to thin slits. He took a second's notice to see that Shera was dressed up in a short black dress with high heels. _She's even wearing makeup._

"We sure had ourselves a marvelous time," Bradley remarked. Even his voice was accented with some kind of upper class slang. _"Marvelous." He sounds so stupid._ "Didn't we, Shera?"

She nodded with a sort of enthusiasm that Cid had never seen before. He found himself stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Shera," Cid began, clearing his throat. "What about the tea?"

"Oh, that's right!" Shera clapped her tiny hands together, wrists jingling with several metal bracelets, and turned to her companion. "Bradley, would you like some tea?"

"I meant for _me,_" Cid quickly intervened, leaning forward. "I _have_ had a long day."

There was an uncomfortable silence exchanged between the three. Bradley seemed to swallow his smile, Shera's eyes were illuminated with puzzlement, and Cid simply stayed as indifferent as he could. It was _his_ house and _his_ rules. The younger man slowly (and wisely on his part, Cid thought) removed his arm from Shera's shoulders and replaced the body warmth on his hand with the sweat from the back of his neck. He tried again to smile, but his crooked grin showed much uncertainty. Bradley looked back and forth between the woman beside him and the pilot.

"Uh…No thanks, Shera. I appreciate your gracious offer, but I feel I must retire for the night."

"But Bradley…" she protested.

"You heard the man," Cid interrupted. "He needs ta get back to his cheap twenty gil room."

"Actually," Bradley straightened the tie around his neck, "the innkeeper gave me the best suite in the hotel. At a mere eight thousand gil, I'd say that he's undercharging me."

Cid's mouth dropped. _E-Eight thousand FUCKIN' gil!? Who __**is**__ this guy!? I didn't even know that that inn __**had**__ a suite!_

The younger man touched Shera's arm. "You'll have to come see it."

"Oh, I would love to! How about after—"

"Shera!" Cid intervened, his tone rising as well as his eyebrows and blood pressure. "Inside! Tea! _Now!_"

Her form was suddenly diminished to that of a microscopic bug, waiting to be crushed under Cid's foot. Her back slouched, almost like an old woman's, and she meekly replied, "Y-Yes, Captain…"

She quickly brushed past Cid and moved into the house, leaving him to stare at a very surprised Bradley.

"I…uh…guess I should go now…" the ebony haired man said, his voice undulating with fear, yet he kept his composure very well, Cid found. Bradley waved and gave a bow. "Nice to have met you, Captain."

Cid snorted and moved back inside of his house, nearly slamming the door. _Yeah, get you and your stinky bow outta here, ya scaly toad._

"Shera!" the pilot began, his eyes still glued to the door, as was his hand. "The hell ya think you were doin' out so late!?" He finally found the strength to face her…or her back, at least.

"Bradley took me out to the club," she answered honestly. _Of __**course**__ it would be honestly. She doesn't have a lyin' bone in 'er body._ "I…I guess I didn't see the time."

"Damn straight!" he spat back and then stomped over to his recliner, quickly sitting in it. "Made me wait 'n all…"

"I-I'm sorry, Captain…" she whispered, setting the kettle onto the stove. "Would you like dinner, too?"

"No," he snapped, "but I _would_ like to know why the hell you've been stealing all my mail, woman! Made me waste my time by calling up the post office only to find out that **you** were the one taking my letters!" He folded his arms over his chest and glowered at her. She turned on the stove and seemed reluctant to look at him, but did so anyway.

"I always take the mail, Captain."

"You said you didn't have the mail for the past three days!"

She was fidgeting. "I…I was expecting something…"

"What?" he asked, leaning back in his recliner. "Yer letters from that…guy?"

"Bradley, yes," she replied. "I was going to tell you about him, Cid. I wanted to tell you that he was my—"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know who he is."

_Friend…boyfriend…lover…betrothed…husband…_

Her eyes lit up. "You…You knew?"

"'Course, Shera. I ain't bloody blind…'Least not yet."

She smiled again, her eyes glowing. He noticed her black dress again, how it fit so nicely around her figure, and how easily and smoothly it swayed when she moved. Even her hair was down, curled at the ends, and a little had been tossed over her shoulder, caressing one side of her face. Her makeup brought out her eyes and lips, he found, and he wondered how he had never known that she could do her own makeup.

Shera turned to grab a cup and saucer from the cabinet above, standing on her tip toes. She placed a teabag inside the cup and waited a few minutes longer for the kettle to whistle. Cid wasn't comfortable with the silence, especially when his mind kept reeling back to the man with ebony hair and a three-piece suit. Shera finally broke the silence, responding to his previous remark, though the time that had elapsed made the matter seem moot.

"Captain, that makes me happy. I thought for sure you would've thought something—"

"That don't mean he can stay here," Cid interrupted for the umpteenth time that night. She handed him his tea and he immediately seized the opportunity to sip from it. _Man, that's hot._

"Oh, that's all right," she waved her hands. "He's leaving tomorrow."

_Good riddance._ "That was fast." He took another small drink.

"Well…I'm going with him."

_PPPFFFFFHHHHSSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!_

"Captain!" Shera looked upon Cid's shirt and pants in horror, which were now stained a light brown. He coughed a couple of times, the tea he had spewed from his mouth dripping down his chin.

He ignored his new apparel and how hot the tea still was while he wore it on his skin.

"You're _what!?_"

Shera stopped in her tracks, blinking. "I…I'm going with him tomorrow."

He quickly rose from his chair, mouth and clothes decorated with tea. The cup was still in his right hand. His chest was burning. Probably from the tea, he thought.

"**Where!?**"

"He made reservations to go to Costa Del Sol," she hastily said. "Captain, you're soaked with tea. You shouldn't have tried to drink it when it's so hot!"

_That's not why I spit it out, woman!_ "Never mind that, Shera, I want to know why the hell he plans on takin' _you!_ No, wait, forget that! It's _ridiculous!_ You ain't goin'!"

She placed her tiny hands upon her hips, slightly angry. "Captain, he already made the reservations. If he backs out now, he'll have to pay a fee for canceling. I won't ask him to do that!" Then she swallowed, as though the next part was hard for her to say, "…Not even for you."

"Gah!" Cid wanted to rip his hair out. He wanted to chuck the teacup at the wall and watch the remainder of the tea drip down the walls. Then he wanted to kick the table. How selfish could this woman _be!?_ What about _his_ wants!? _His_ needs!? "Dammit, woman! What's supposed ta happen to _me!?_"

"I bought you some TV dinners for the next few days," Shera responded calmly. "You'll be _fine,_ Captain."

"I said **NO,** Shera!"

"I've already packed," she argued, but without the fierce tone to match his. _Damn! Why does she always have to be so freakin' subtle!?_ "I leave in the morning." She walked up to him, "Now, do you want me to take care of this mess or not?"

"I can dress myself, Shera!" he shouted, recoiling from her touch, and turned to storm up the stairs, an almost visible cloud of anger trailing afterwards.

---

Please R&R. Flames will be used light roofs on fire. So please be nice.


	2. Bloody Mary, Tequila, and a Margarita

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own FFVII. Just Bradley.

Thank you for all of your reviews! Please tell me what you think.

**Chapter Two**

**Bloody Mary, Tequila, and a Margarita**

\/\/\/

Cloud wished that he had left Rocket Town the night before. He sat on Cid's steps that led to his front porch and watched as the pilot kicked rocks lying in his yard and stomped around as though his favorite show had just gotten cancelled.

"And then she up and **leaves!** I can't **take** it anymore, Spike!"

"I thought that this was the perfect opportunity you've been wanting, Cid," Cloud protested, his voice level and even. _No use in pissing him off even more. I can tell he's just __**waiting**__ for the chance to rip me apart._ "Remember yesterday?"

"Of **course** I remember yesterday!" Cid retorted, his face red and steaming. "I'm not stupid!"

"I never said that…" Cloud whispered, tracing circles in the dirt with his finger.

"It's just…**Gah!** Costa Del Sol! That's supposed to be a _romantic_ resort! The hell is she going there with _him_ for?" Cid didn't give Cloud the chance to answer before he spun around and shouted, "He looks like a little weasel with his face smashed in!"

Cloud was fiddling with his thumbs, now, unable to face the blonde Captain. "Well…how did she get there?"

"He has his own private _plane,_ man! I didn't think **nobody** could afford _that!_" The chain-smoking pilot threw his arms up to the sky. "He's **rich,** Spike! I can't compete with **rich!**"

"Compete? Since when were you competing—"

"Man, this would be **so** much easier if I still had the Highwind…Then I could smash that bastard's plane in mid-flight."

Cloud's eyes widened. "You…You'd run it **over?** In the **air?**" The delivery boy couldn't imagine the pilot becoming a murderer. Or, at least, he _hoped_ the man wasn't capable of _murder._

Cid pivoted again, giving his back to Cloud, and took a puff from his cigarette. "I know Yuffie and Red are in Costa Del Sol. …Probably plannin' a conspiracy against me."

"Cid, do you _honestly_ think that—"

"Cloud," Cid was inattentively cutting Cloud off again, irritating the younger man. "I'm takin' the Tiny Bronco to Costa Del Sol," the ex-mercenary wasn't quite prepared for the second half, "and yer coming with me."

"W-What?"

"That's right," Cid nodded, cigarette still clenched in between his teeth. "You heard me. You're comin' and that's that."

"Cid, I…I…"

"Shut the hell up!" the foulmouthed man screamed, violently waving his hands in the air. "Don't make me repeat myself!"

Cloud's mouth snapped shut and he sank further onto the steps. "A…All right…"

The pilot ran past him, slamming the door along the way.

\/\/\/

It didn't take more than twenty minutes for Cid to drag Cloud into the revamped Tiny Bronco and pull the plane into the skies. Costa Del Sol wasn't far off, but the younger man suggested that the two stay out of sight and leave the plane some miles off.

"You want it to get **stolen?** Forget it!" Cid shouted over the rushing wind and whirling propellers. Cloud sighed and adjusted the goggles Cid had let him borrow.

"If Shera sees you there, she's going to get upset."

"Shera ain't got an angry bone in her body!" the pilot assured. "Jus' trust me on this one." Cid looked ahead, watching as the clouds separated for him, and saw the tiny resort town some odd distance away. Then he focused his attention to the right where a plane—much larger than his—was settled on the outskirts of town. _Probably has some cheap bodyguard watchin' over it. Hmph. Wonder if he'll mind if I decide to park right on top of him._

He heard Cloud scream in the back as the plane took a sudden nosedive and descended rapidly towards the ground.

"Yeehaw!" Cid pumped a fist into the air as the wind roared against his ears, and he sharply regained control of the plane, swooping in on the larger plane. The Tiny Bronco did several loops, the younger blonde crying and trying to retreat further in the backseat while grasping for _anything_ that would hold him in the plane. Tipping sideways, the pilot laughed maniacally, leaning forward. "Don't you **dare** lose yer stomach back there, Cloud, or else I'll make you clean out my entire plane!" Then the Captain looked ahead.

Indeed, he could make out the tiny form of a man dressed in black, who seemed in immediate shock over the sight of the racing Tiny Bronco and a destructive Cid Highwind behind the controls.

"OH MY GAWD!" the man in black cried in helpless anxiety as Cid tilted the plane again and made a daring landing that nearly singed the wing of Bradley's plane.

The aircraft rolled in a little ways and Cid gave a quick jerk, almost overturning the Tiny Bronco entirely, and forced his plane to meet nose to nose with the other. He leapt over the side and landed less than gracefully, but managed to stand upright and pull his goggles up to his forehead.

"Hmm…not bad," Cid complimented himself, dusting off his trademark jacket, and began to walk towards the resort town. Cloud, on the other hand, was suffering from severe nausea and motion sickness. He tumbled over the side of the plane, landing face first into the grassy field, and sputtered.

"Get the hell up off the ground, Cloud!" Cid shouted from over his shoulder. "This ain't no time to be takin' naps! I'll break your arm if you don't get yer ass over here!" Cid pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"E-Excuse me, sir," the man in black stepped in front of the pilot once he had regained his composure. "But you're not allowed to park here…"

"Watch me," Cid snapped back, taking a drag off of his cigarette. He blew the puff of smoke into the man's face, prompting the bodyguard to give a series of harsh coughs.

"I…I'm sorry, sir," Cloud was over by the duo in an instant. It amazed Cid how fast the son of a bitch could run after taking a tumble off of the Tiny Bronco. _When had he found the strength and time to get up?_ "But he's here looking for his roommate. She's with your Boss, I think…"

"Shera ain't my roommate, Spike!" Cid retorted, leaning back slightly and stuck out his chest in a manly fashion.

Cloud cringed. "That's…cold, Cid."

"That ain't what I meant, you fool!" the pilot barked, grabbing his companion by the arm and leaving the man in black to his whimpering. _Some bodyguard._

The walk wasn't very far, and Cid spent most of his time complaining, arguing, and stomping through the grass. Finally he stopped, turned to Cloud, and said, "The hell am I supposed to say to her?"

Cloud looked shocked. He halted in his tracks, shoulders drawn back, and his eyes were wide and appeared as though they were going to shoot from his sockets like champagne corks. He was honestly dumbfounded. "You…_didn't_ plan that out?"

"'Course not! What? You think I'm organized?" Cid withdrew the cigarette from his mouth and tapped the end of it with his finger, ashes falling into the grass.

"Uh…Uh…" the younger man scratched the back of his head. "Well…Do you want to stop by my villa to think about it?"

It was Cid's turn to be taken aback, and the cigarette fell from his fingertips and into the grass. The younger man quickly panicked and stomped out the remains of the stick before it started a fire. He looked back to Cid, who hadn't seemed to notice the error of his ways, his eyes still wide and his mouth agape.

"Wait…" the pilot breathed after some time, finally breaking his temporary coma. "That villa, right?" Cloud hesitantly nodded. "That three-hundred thousand gil villa, right?"

"Uh…that's the only one I know of, Cid."

"Shit!" Cid grabbed the collar of Cloud's shirt and stuck his face into his, unaware of the fact that he smelled of tobacco and musk. "Spike! Ya **gotta** let me borrow that villa!"

"What?"

"Just let me tell that son of a bitch, Bradshaw, that that villa belongs to _me,_ and we'll see jus' how much of his way he gets!"

"Cid…I…uh…don't quite understand. Just _who_ are we trying to piss off, here? The dude or Shera?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Cloud," Cid spat back, suddenly charging for Costa Del Sol again. "You got a wardrobe, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Good! Go change into some swimming trunks or somethin' and don't tell **no one** yer with me or else you'll blow our cover."

"What cover?" Cloud whispered to himself, but followed after Cid anyway.

Cloud, in the end, crept up the steps to his rather commodious villa, while Cid continued along the beach, beyond the younger children tossing a ball back and forth. He stood out like a sore thumb, or, rather, an Eskimo in the desert with nothing but cactuses and large lizards. He certainly did not look, nor act, the part of one who was on a comforting vacation, and it resulted in various looks from others who _were_ enjoying themselves—including that of Yuffie Kisaragi and Red XII.

Cid wandered past them without notice, his eyes watching the moving silhouettes along the shoreline in the distance. He scanned them more carefully, aiming to find the reason he came to this hellhole in the first place. Quickly jumping the steps, Cid felt his hands fist and he powerfully walked across the sand, which enclosed around the tops of his boots with each step he took.

He looked to and fro, teeth grinding and eyebrows furrowing in budding anger. _Dammit! Where the hell __**is**__ she?_

Then he heard familiar laughter. Wait, laughter? Shera never _laughed!_ She hadn't really laughed…or smiled for that matter…since the Shinra 26 incident. Cid whirled around to look down the other end of the beach where a big blue and white striped umbrella shaded a couple and their spacious, white blanket. The girl had her head tilted forward, her brown hair done up in a bun on the top of her head. She was wearing a beige colored bikini, showing off her very nicely shaped figure, and her knees were up against her chest.

There was a man behind her in red swimming trunks with a single white stripe down the side. He was well-built, around Cid's size, with muscular arms and a six pack that would knock any woman back with infatuation. The umbrella was tilted in such a way that it prevented Cid from seeing the man's face, but not from what he was doing. He was rubbing suntan lotion along the woman's neck, saying something that the pilot couldn't make out, but it made the woman laugh anyway.

Then the man moved down the woman's back, continuing to place lotion on her delicate skin.

"…don't want you to have an uneven tan…" or something like that was what he said.

The man leaned his head down to whisper something into the woman's ear, and Cid caught sight of ebony colored hair. When the man unintentionally gave the pilot his profile, Cid was instantly on a rampage, shoving people aside as he quickly moved over to the man and the woman he was with.

"Well, well, well!" the chain-smoker called out as he neared them, his eyes ablaze. "Am I interrupting something?" There were a lot of things running through Cid's mind. The content of Shera's swimsuit was one of them, and he instantly disapproved of how much skin it revealed. Other things contained several hundred curse words and something along the lines of skinning Bradshaw. …Or maybe strangling him with the umbrella and tossing him out to sea.

Shera looked up from her place on the blanket, staring into Cid's dangerous eyes. She immediately shrunk back against the man, who still had his hands on her back.

"Oh, it looks like we've been found out," Bradley said aloud, looking from the female scientist to the angry Captain.

"Damn right!" Cid wanted to order that he remove his oily, snaky hands from her back, and then pick Shera up and force her into something more decent to wear. Then, he would push her back to the plane to go to Rocket Town.

But Shera spoke first. And she appeared quite upset.

"Captain, Bradley was _just_ putting suntan lotion on my back."

"Well, shit, Shera! I coulda done that!" The blonde man crossed his arms over his chest, sticking his bottom lip out.

"If I may have the final say, Captain—" Bradley was cut off.

"No, you may not."

"—you weren't _here_ to do it in the first place."

"What are you doing here _anyway,_ Captain?" Shera asked, annoyed. Her attitude made Cid even angrier.

"What? Can't a guy come to his own villa ta take a couple of days off?"

That changed everything. Shera stared back with bewilderment, and then she turned to Bradley. He, too, was quite startled.

"Villa?" the rich man questioned.

"Dat's right!" Cid's smile was much smugger and the arms across his chest tightened as his ego doubled in size. "My very own villa! It's got a Jacuzzi and a big screen TV and a basement—"

"That sounds like **Cloud's** villa, old man!"

Suddenly, that ego of the Captain's was deflated like a hot balloon. _So, how's it feel to eat crow, Highwind? _He quickly turned around to see Yuffie in a revealing, green bikini, accompanied by Red XIII. He inwardly cursed. He knew that they were here, but he wished that they would've shown up at…some other time.

Yuffie brushed a loose strand of her hair from her eyes, smirking. Red said nothing.

"Oh…Are those your friends, Captain?" Bradley jerked an earnest thumb in their direction.

"No," Cid replied gruffly. "Never seen 'em before in my life."

"Lying snake," Yuffie pushed the older man aside and knelt by Shera. "Shera, is this your new boyfriend? Quite a different direction from Cid. I'd say you made a pretty good choice. Is he rich?"

"Dammit Yuffie!" Cid was steaming now, his face redder than Bradley's swimming trunks. "Keep your damn nose outta it!"

"Oooh," Yuffie mocked, standing up, not noticing a furiously blushing Shera turn her face away. "Strike a sore spot, did I? And I thought you said you didn't know me…Hee hee…"

"You filthy, little pest!" Cid was spouting anything that came to mind and _would've_ continued on with a string of curses (some that contained every curse word at _least_ once…Maybe twice), but Bradley broke him off in mid-prelude to profanity.

"Wait, now I'm confused. Didn't you say you _owned_ a villa, Captain?"

The pilot paused, unsure of what to say now. Yuffie and Red damn well _knew_ that Cid didn't own any villa, but he couldn't blame them because they weren't _in_ on his plan. _But that ain't gonna stop me from blaming them anyway._ However, on the other hand, if he took back what he said now, then he would _really_ look like a fool. He had no choice. He _had_ to go with it.

"'Course I do! What? You takin' me for a liar?"

Bradley didn't remark to him being a liar, but instead said, "And where is it located?"

The questions were getting more and more ridiculously hard, Cid found, and he had to think of something. And _fast._ "Uh…Near the dock, up front."

Shera had managed to regain herself, her face restored to its natural, creamy color. "Oh, isn't that where Cloud said he had his villa, too?"

The pilot gaped. Since _when_ had _he_ talked to Shera about his villa? That just about blew the cover.

"Yeah," Yuffie joined in, already seeming to know what a lie it all was. "And what color is it?"

"W-White…Just like every other building here." Cid couldn't take it anymore. "Dammit! What's with the Fifth Degree? You either believe me or you don't!" Inviting them to the villa was out of the question, especially with Yuffie in the picture. She was already ruining everything as it was.

"Well," Shera stood up, standing just a little taller than Yuffie, "this certainly is news to me, Captain. Can you take us to this villa?"

The pilot ran his fingers through his hair. He had never been a good liar. "Uh…N-No. The…The carpets are being shampooed right now."

"That's a pity," Bradley replied, his tone a bit dull. "I suppose we have no choice then but to wait until afterwards."

"No way!" Yuffie argued, placing her tiny hands on her little hips. "I don't believe him! What's the villa look like from the outside, Cid? That way we can come by and say hello if we want to later."

Cid was just about to tell her to fuck off when he saw the stares of Red, Shera, and Bradley. He cursed himself for getting in so deep. "It…It's white and has steps with a bridge latched on the side and an outside light that—"

"That _does_ sound like Cloud's villa." Shera interrupted and looked to Yuffie. "Is it?"

Yuffie snorted. "I don't need to think about it twice. That is undoubtedly Cloud's villa."

Shera folded her arms. "Captain…Is that your villa, or are you and Cloud renting it together?"

"No," Yuffie spoke up before Cid could. "It's definitely Cloud's."

As for Cid, the pilot couldn't talk even if he wanted to. _Damn it! I need a smoke! This is just __**all**__ the luck for Yuffie and her big mouth to roll up and ruin things for me!_ He couldn't exactly say he was _disappointed_ when Cloud showed up when he did…wearing nothing but purple Speedos. He was pulling the wedgie from his butt as he walked up, looking uncomfortable.

"Cid, this was the only thing I had in the laundry!" Cloud called out. Then he saw his friends.

"Cloud?" Red asked, blinking.

"Fine timing, Cloud!" Yuffie jumped up and down. "Now tell this old man to stop stealing your villa!"

Cloud looked to Cid. Cid was about ready to drown himself in the ocean.

\/\/\/

"I'm sorry, I'm **sorry!**" Yuffie was twirling herself around on the barstool while Cid submerged his sorrows in the pretty little margarita arranged for him by the bartender. It even had a pink sports drink umbrella in it. The ice clanked against the glass as he brought the alcoholic beverage to his lips. "I didn't **know** it was a cover up!"

She seemed worried. So did Red. Cloud was the only one trying to reassure them that Cid would be all right after a while. Cid knew better.

"Thanks to you, Shera and that Brat-boy know that I was lying 'bout the villa. Who _knows_ what they think of me now."

"Does it really matter that much?" Yuffie asked. The pilot caught Cloud out of the corner of his eye signaling for her to be "quiet."

"Shit, do ya **think** I'd waste my time comin' all the way out here if it weren't important?" Cid turned on her with angry eyes and dangerous intentions. Because of her, everything had been spoiled.

That hadn't been the worst of it, either. After that humiliating conversation, Cid had to watch the female engineer and her companion decide on "removing" themselves from the current disaster, and find something that would ease the discomfort. Tequilas and a Bloody Mary seemed to do the trick…at least for a while. Maybe whiskey later. Have a manly drink and not these cheap, crappy girly drinks. 

Shera and the bastard were out on his highly expensive yacht at the time—one that even put the Shinra boat docked at Junon to shame. He had sat and watched them from the pier behind a thick pole, squinting hard at the little blurry figures moving about near the portside.

He had kept a close watch on them—especially Bradley. Who _knew_ what the punk was capable and Cid swore to himself that if he saw him do _anything_ that the pilot disapproved of, the Captain would jump out into the ocean and swim like a propeller was attached to him over to that stinking yacht. But nothing happened. They had spent most of the time inside the cabin anyways. To pass the time, Cid was using a stick to draw in the little amount of sand that there was on the dock. He wanted a smoke, but knew that he was trying to keep from looking suspicious. Smoking would get him caught. Smoking now would be bad.

Smoking…was out of the question, no matter how cruel it sounded to Cid Highwind.

Four hours later they had docked again, and Cid found himself now hiding behind a large crate filled with fish. It stunk to high heaven, but at least he could get a good view. _Why the hell am I even here? Why do I even __**care?**_ The thought had made Cid angry and he considered just leaving the damn resort town altogether, but when he saw that shmuck of a man lean down to kiss Shera on the forehead, he wanted nothing more than to storm up to the fool and push him into the wheeling propellers that belonged to the red water jet behind them.

But he didn't. And he didn't know why.

_Stupid, ugly, piece of shit…_

He had punched the fish crate with his gloved hand. And it hurt like hell.

After that, the two walked along the shoreline, gazing at the downcast sun over the horizon. There was a large bonfire going at the other end of the beach and several of the natives were playing kick the can. He had gotten Shera to play.

_Stupid lil' puke. _Cid was still watching them from quite a distance away. He took a drag off from his cigarette. _She's prolly feelin' more uncomfortable than Cloud naked in the Gaea Cliffs. She hates social outings._

He had nearly dropped his cigarette into the sand, which wouldn't have been the first time that day he had done that, when he watched her participate, leaning into her companion as she laughed, and he laughed, and the two boneheads laughed together. She was holding his arm and playing, and he was encouraging her all the while. She was actually pretty good at the game, too. Shera was having the time of her life and seemed more alive now than she had ever been. 

Cid scowled and stuffed his hands angrily into his pockets. _Shera was never like that with me. She never did any of that. I took her to some parties before and she was never like that._ Then he thought about it a little longer. _Well…maybe once or twice before the rocket incident._ But that didn't count, he argued to himself. This was _afterwards!_

He pushed his bottom lip out, watching her. She was…so happy. And then the rich man had picked her up and spun her around after she won the game, her arms around his neck. _I don't even remember her playing any of the games the buds and I used to play at those parties. I guess poker and rummy weren't her thing._

Cid still watched her with melancholy eyes. Everyone else had congratulated her, complimenting on her skills as a player. Bradley set her down and patted her back. They started up a new game. Shera was up first.

_She played cards with us once. I remember her making a stupid move at blackjack once and I yelled at her because she lost three-hundred gil over it. I don't think she ever played again after that._

The pilot looked away for a moment, clearing his throat and pulling the cigarette away from his lips with two fingers. But he had found that he couldn't gaze away for long before his sights returned to her. She seemed years younger, like a child, and far more alive than she ever had at Rocket Town. She even looked great in that white top she had switched into earlier. Her body was fit and curvaceous and…and attractive.

Bradley took his turn, messed up, but Shera had been there to console him.

_Even at those parties, she never really dressed up. I think that that was after the rocket incident. I used to poke fun at how all her clothes made her look old. Lookin' back now, I think it was really an assholic thing for me to do. I wonder if she still remembers that…_

Cid scratched at the back of his head, still watching her. _Come ta think of it, she never __**did **__like those parties. All we did was get drunk and she'd have to carry me home. She never drank. But she always stayed up, no matter how late it was, waitin' fer me to finish drinking, partying, and humiliating her before deciding to leave._

It was pretty late now, but Shera hadn't seemed to mind. She didn't even look the _slightest_ bit tired. If it had been any other time, she would've went home. But she didn't now. Bradley messed up his turn again, but made it a point to laugh at himself.

Cid never laughed at himself. Whenever he had screwed up, he blamed Shera.

_Look atter with that junky rich fella. …Should be __**me**__ over there._

Wait, where the hell had **that** thought come from?

Cid turned around, finished off his cigarette, and gazed at the stars above him, shivering against the chill of the wind.

He had spent the rest of the time in the cold, away from the bonfire.

Now he was here in the bar, getting plastered. And damn did it feel good.

"Cid, come on," Cloud nudged his friend in the shoulder. "They have a pool table. Let's go shoot some."

Cid wanted to throw his drink in Cloud's face, but that would've been a waste of a perfectly good margarita. Not to mention, he didn't want them to get any ideas into their damn heads that he was pissed off because of Shera and her new boyfriend.

Because he wasn't.

"Whatever," Cid mumbled, grabbing his drink and staggering off after Cloud to the pool table downstairs. He tripped once, spilling the drink a little, and cursed. Red caught him from the front as Yuffie grabbed him from behind, helping the drunken pilot regain his balance.

"You okay, Cid?" Cloud asked, turning around.

"If I was any happier, I'd be pissing out joy," Cid snapped. He recoiled from Yuffie's touch and sidestepped around Red XII, still holding what was left of his drink. "Now get the damn cue ball and the chalk."

The blonde ex-mercenary gave a half smile and continued down the stairs, grabbing the pool cue along the way.

"Pool is such a stupid game," Yuffie commented and then gave a low whistle. Red only smirked.

"I can't play. I don't have the steady hands you humans do."

"Yeah, well who's invitin' ya in the first place?" a drunk Cid wobbled as he turned around, casting them both glares. He hit the corner of the pool table when he whirled back around, a cloud of anger overtaking him.

"Watch it, Cid," Cloud said, a little more seriously. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Like hell I care!" Cid swung the cue and it hit the wall. Such immense strength was enough to crack the wood in half. One part was still in Cid's hand while the other had ricocheted to the other end of the room, crashing through a picture and shattering the glass. It tumbled to the ground, dead and unusable. Everyone looked at the mess—even the bartender.

"Aw, shit," Cid groaned, dropping the other half of the pool cue.

"Uh…right," Cloud began to pack the game back up and stuck his cue onto the rack. "Pool was a bad idea."


	3. Sounds Like Wedding Bells

**Disclaimer: **Yeah. I wish I owned FFVII. Especially after Crisis Core coming out and being all about one of my favorite characters, Zack! If that was the case, I would've changed the ending, for sure! So that means I don't.

**Chapter Three**

**Sounds Like Wedding Bells**

\/\/\/

After getting ushered out by the bartender (followed by repeated threats), Cloud helped walk a very wasted Cid Highwind back to his villa, along with Yuffie and Red XIII. The pilot spent part of the night on Cloud's couch, part of it in the bathroom puking, and the other part on the floor from having fallen _off_ the couch.

The next morning, Costa Del Sol was still sunny, and Cid had a massive hangover.

"Gods…what a nightmare," Cid mumbled as Cloud moved around in the kitchen, throwing things into a blender. Yuffie was still asleep and Red had just come in. The blonde pilot grimaced when the blender came on. "Turn that damned thing off, Cloud! Have you no consideration for the ill?" Cid held his hands over his ears, face pressed against the counter surface.

"This will only take a second," the younger said over the noise of the blender. When it took longer than a second, Cloud could see Cid's hand ball into a fist, the pilot's face still against the counter. "Uh…" He quickly unplugged it and dumped the contents into a large glass.

Once it was safe to sit up straight again, Cid did. He looked at the "beverage" Cloud was making. "Yuck, what the hell is _in_ that?" the former Captain of the Highwind dared to ask.

"Things you're going to need to make it through the rest of the day," Cloud sat the drink in front of Cid. "The recipe is a secret."

"I won't be askin' you for it anytime soon," Cid looked down into the cup, sticking out his tongue in disgust. "I ain't drinking this…"

"Then you're gonna be hating life all day," Cloud warned. "Just trust me and drink it, Cid. It's the _least_ you can do for getting us kicked out of the bar last night."

"Dammit! How the hell was that **my** fault, Cloud!? You weren't drinkin' anyway!"

"I meant _pool,_ Cid."

"Well, fuck pool! I still ain't drinkin' this crap!" Cid scowled and turned away. Then he gritted his teeth and clutched his head, the headache getting worse. "Shit, shit, shit! Fine! I'll drink it!" He clenched the cup and chugged it all at once, aiming to satisfy the blonde ex-mercenary. Once he slammed down the cup, he wiped the rest of the contents from his mouth, giving Cloud a bitter look. "That was nasty, Spike. This thing had better not kill me."

"It _won't,_" Cloud assured. "It's my hangover helper. Tifa used to make it for me all the time when I'd get smashed."

"And she let you get _away_ with it?" Red spoke up this time, eyeing Cloud.

The former mercenary shrugged. "I just got into fights was all. Guess she felt sorry for me."

"Man, she pampers you like a baby." Cid pushed himself away from the barstool and counter, still holding his head in one hand. "Geez, I feel like Meteor's crashed right down on top of me. I'm gonna head outside and catch some fresh air."

"Careful," Cloud began, "the sun might make your headache worse."

"Yeah, yeah," Cid waved him and his advice away like the wind. "Whatever."

He heard Cloud sigh before he shut the door.

All at once, the sun attacked him, just as the younger blonde had predicted it would. Cid groaned and shielded his eyes with the hand that had earlier held his head in place. He turned his back to the sun, removed his arm, and opened his eyes, blinking. With a little bit of time, they were refocused and he was able to see the beach and the people moving along it.

Everyone was happy in the land of Costa Del Sol. Everyone except Cid. He hated life _and_ the resort town. Children were playing and laughing in the sand, intensifying his headache and loathing of them. Couples were walking by with slushies in their hands, talking to each other in the stupid, sissy voices that couples talked in. Daredevils were riding the waves while chicks watched them, whistling with admiration, and others were tanning on the beach.

Yup, just another happy day in the world of Costa Del Sol.

_Just a walk,_ he assured himself. _Just a walk so I can forget everything that happened yesterday._ He had lost his coat and gloves, now just wandering around in his pants, boots, and a dull blue tank top that Cloud had lent him after he had hurled all over his own shirt. It was in the dryer now.

_I need a cigarette._ But he realized that he had gone through those, too. _Great…first my shirt, and now my cigs. Can't things get just a __**little**__ easier 'round here?_ When he turned the corner, the first thing he saw was red…a stripe of white…and black hair.

_Son of a…_ Cid tossed himself back behind the wall he had just come from, and slowly snaked his head around the side of the building to see what the hell Mr. _Bradley _Whatever-his-last-name-was was up to. He was in front of another building—one with a small window in front—talking to a smaller man from within. Cid leaned in closer, trying to eavesdrop.

"It's not a matter of a question," Bradley was saying, "It's **very** important that you get this for me."

"Right!" the shorter, fatter man nodded eagerly. "But it's awfully expensive. Are you sure that—"

"Money is no issue here," Bradley waved him away. "I'm buying it for her."

"Ooooh," the other man leaned his head back and whistled. "Your girlfriend, right? I saw you together yesterday at the game."

Bradley quickly leaned forward and whispered something that was far too low for Cid to make out. The pilot grumbled and took a step forward, only managing to catch the last few words:

"…marry her soon…"

Then Bradley turned to quickly walk away from the little vending shop. Cid was paralyzed to the ground, unsure if what he had just heard was entirely correct. He felt lightheaded, the hangover suddenly coming in waves and Cid shook the fuzziness from his head. The rich punk was walking away, whistling it sounded like, and waving to other people on the beach who called out to him. It wasn't just another happy day in the world of Costa Del Sol…

…It was another happy day in the life of Bradley Pukehead too.

_What!? That son of a bitch plans to __**what!?**__ Shit! This'as gone __**far**__ enough!_

It was a wonder why there wasn't more steam coming out of Cid's ears at the horrid thought, but then again, he was focused more on the small shop that Bradley had just been at.

The very same one that read "Palmer's Delights" on the top.

"Palmer," Cid seethed, his eyes narrowing. "So the little fat ass is still around, is he? Guess it's only right for me to pay my respects…"

Palmer, still dressed in his small tan three-piece suit, was counting out his earnings and eating a hotdog when Cid had stomped over and slammed his hands down on top of the small counter attached to the window. It startled the former Shinra employee and Space Program executive.

"GAH!" Palmer tossed all of the money into the air and dropped the hotdog to the floor. He looked up to see a very angry Cid, who was only so far away from trying to climb into the small window and wring the other man's neck.

"C-Cid!?" Palmer exclaimed, his eyes vacillating back and forth between the money on the ground and the pilot. "I…uh…Nice weather we're having…"

"Cut the crap, lard ass!" Cid spat back. "I wanna know what the hell you and rich boy were discussing!"

"Oh, uh, Bradley?"

"Don't play stupid! What the hell were you two numbskulls talking 'bout!?" Cid began to crack his knuckles, "Or do I hafta get rough wif ya?"

"Urp! Come on, Cid, you and I've known each other for **years!** Why does it have to come to this?"

"Tell me, dammit!"

"I…I can't tell you!" Palmer cried out, tears brimming at his eyes. "Bradley made me **promise**not to tell! He funds my salary, ya know."

"Listen here, **Fatty!** If I don't get nuttin' but the answer from you in less than three seconds, I'm gonna haul my ass through this here window and beat you to a fuckin' pulp! Are we **square!?**"

Palmer was silent for a moment, staring at Cid, who was shooting machetes rather than daggers in his direction, and then down in front of Cid's hand…which was in the line of fire of the closing window.

"… … … …Ican'ttell!"

The window slammed shut and crunched Cid's hand, causing the pilot to jump back. He yanked his arm out of the window and instantly began to jump up and down, cursing so violently, it went on for a good four or five minutes. His vehement profanities caused everyone who had been in the vicinity to vacate in less than thirty seconds. Children were herded away as parents shouted back at Cid, who couldn't hear them over his own swearing, to find a new vocabulary.

After eight minutes or so, the pilot was successfully able to calm himself, unclenching his hand to stare at it. It was black and blue and bleeding slightly, but otherwise fine. He looked back to Palmer's shop. The smaller man was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, that little _shit._ I'm gonna have my foot so far up his ass, he'll have to turn his fat body completely around to take a crap." Cid swiveled around and stomped away, but he wasn't about to give up the war.

A few moments later, he returned, Venus Gospel in hand. He sidestepped around the vending shop and knocked on the window, hiding the rest of himself away. It was such a pleasure to hear the window open.

"Hello and welcome to Palmer's Delights. May I take…your…order…?"

Cid's shadow slowly loomed over the window and his wicked eyes stared the smaller man down. It only took Palmer a moment to realize that his situation had turned fatal, and Cid _always_ made sure to leave _some_ blood leftover from his victims stuck to his blade. At this point in time, the blonde pilot was _livid._

"… … … …We'reclosed."

Palmer slammed the window shut again and quickly fled to the back of his small shop.

"Son of a bitch, Palmer! I'm gonna get you **this** time!"

Cid speared the window, shattering it into thousands of pieces. The former Shinra executive screamed from the back as the pilot used the end of his weapon to clear away any extra glass. Then he immediately began to pull himself through the window.

"You **do** realize that once I make it through this window, your ass is going to be hanging from the end of my spear, don'cha?"

"Hey…**Hey!** You're vandalizing my property! I…I'll sue!" Palmer's voice weakened. "Uh…come on, Cid…? _Friend…?_ Tra…la…la?"

The foulmouthed pilot was upon Palmer in a moment, his eyes dark and foreboding. The Venus Gospel was aligned with the other man's throat.

"Tell me," Cid said lowly and as calm as he could muster, "or _else._"

It didn't take long for Palmer to make a decision. Salary was nice, but life was much more valuable. The little man was on his knees, trembling.

"A-All right! All right, I'll tell you! Just _please_ put that thing away, Cid!"

Cid did not. It encouraged Palmer to speak hastily.

"B-Bradley t-told me to have my associate order a very rare item, but they can only ship it to Gold Saucer. S-So I told him he'd have to go there—"

"What was it?" Cid interrupted, his brows arching along his eyes. "What was he ordering!?"

"Gah!" Palmer jumped back at Cid's sudden outburst, sausage-like fingers gripping at the collar of his undershirt. "A ring! A ring!"

Cid stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. Had he heard correctly? A _ring!?_

"A…A r-r-ring!?" the pilot stammered, nearly dropping his Venus Gospel. _He's…he's gettin' her a __**ring!?**__ A fuckin' engagement __**ring!?**_

"Yes, yes," Palmer concurred, still eyeing the blade. "It's awfully expensive, too. I told him that brass would be **much** cheaper, but he _insists_ on getting a—"

"_Dammit!_" Cid screamed into the air, throwing his head back. The veins in his neck were pulsating from such anger. "Dammit all to hell!" He turned and kicked the shelf holding hotdog and hamburger buns. The metal racks shook and all of the wares toppled to the floor. He ferociously rubbed at his eyes, grinding his teeth.

Palmer looked up at him now, blinking. "Well, gee Cid, I didn't think you'd agree with me about this."

"You fat little bastard!" the pilot roared at him, eyes black and unfocused. "How the hell could you just do this without so much as **consulting** me!?"

"I…uh…well, you know how things are…" the glare was life threatening. "Tra…la…la…"

"**Fuck!**" Instead of kicking the shelf this time, Cid ripped it completely out of the wall in a fit of rage. Palmer screamed as the pilot kicked the backdoor open and showed himself out, saying nothing else.

Nearby, he could see a spiky blonde man playing volleyball with several other people. He hit it out of the court.

"C'mon, Cloud," the voice belonged to Yuffie. "We don't have **all** day!"

"'Kay," the former mercenary said, turning in the direction of where he had hit the ball.

Cid could hear a man with red hair sigh. "Man, he's always been the same dunce—even when we were kids."

"We know how you feel, Johnny," a woman, presumably his girlfriend, patted him on the shoulder.

"Cloud, my nose is beginning to dry out," Red commented. "Have you gotten the ball, yet?"

"Yeah! Are we playing volleyball or not!?" Yuffie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled at Cloud, who was torn between getting the ball and staring at those who were screaming verbal atrocities at him.

"Yuffie, please," the child of Seto looked up at her. "I can handle it."

"Well, Cloud!?" Johnny put his hands on his hips, gruffly. "Did you retrieve the ball yet!?"

"Stop screaming at me!" Cloud stomped his foot into the sand, hands balled into fists, and he turned to storm off and get the ball.

"Who here says that we should kick Cloud off the team?" Johnny's girlfriend looked around.

"Me!" Johnny thrust an eager arm into the air.

"Yeah!" Yuffie chimed in.

"Okay, okay! I got it!" Cloud came back to the court, volleyball in hand. He tossed it over to Red XII, who skillfully balanced it upon his nose before handing it to Yuffie.

"Fifteen-Zero service!"

Cid listened in closer to Johnny and his girlfriend, who began to talk amongst themselves as Cloud stepped to the frontline.

"Is it just me, or are we losing?" she asked.

Johnny shrugged. "It's all Cloud's fault."

Yuffie threw the ball over the net and Cloud immediately leapt into the air, spiking it with his head. Unfortunately, his largest, pointy spike made contact with the ball first, causing it to pop and fly all over the place like a deflating balloon.

"_**Awww!**_" everyone cried. "_**Cloud!**_"

He looked away, sheepishly, and scratched the back of his neck. "Anybody have twenty-two fifty?"

\/\/\/

Cid spent the next forty-five minutes gearing up the plane and checking for problems. He was still pissed. The man at the inn had informed him that Shera and her companion had already left when he went to straighten things out. When he went to go and buy another pack of cigarettes, the shop owner said the same exact thing. Now he felt sick to his stomach.

_He could be proposing to her at __**any**__ minute an' I ain't there ta stop him! Shit, Shera! Why haven't you told me 'bout this?_

"What's going on, Cid?"

The pilot didn't even bother to look at his company, still checking the engine for the final preparations.

"I'm busy now," Cid replied, sill eyeing the Tiny Bronco. "Dun have time ta talk."

Cloud blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Going to Gold Saucer, that's what."

"That's not _wrong,_ Cid…Unless you don't like vacations, which you've been known not to. _Then_ I can see that as being a problem. Uh…wait, weren't we here to talk to Shera and her boyfriend?"

Cid gave him an angry glare in reward for that curt remark. Cloud clamped his mouth shut.

"I meant…"

"That's the reason I'm going there in the first place," Cid said, his brows narrowing. "I just 'bout got all this worked out." Then, slapping the plane on its wing, Cid hopped in and looked at Cloud. "What? You coming or staying?"

Cloud looked around for a moment, then back at Cid with a look that read _"who? Me?"_ The pilot was drumming his fingers on the side of the plane, impatiently.

"I…I…" Cloud gave up, shoulders hunched over, and then climbed into the back of the aircraft. "What about Yuffie and Red?"

"Whadd'bout them? They wanna come? Tiny Bronco can only seat two. Tell them ta take a Dune Buggy." Cid reached into his pocket and handed Cloud his PHS.

"I got my own," Cloud said, waving Cid's away. "I'll call them once we get there."

\/\/\/

Cloud hadn't seen Cid this angry since…well, Cid was _always_ angry, but he hadn't seen him this angry since Rufus had wanted to borrow the Tiny Bronco…or when the pilot had found out Shera was on the rocket headed for Meteor…or even yesterday during the walk. But now, during this particular moment, Cid was _seething._

He and Cloud were sitting in their hotel room while the foulmouthed pilot searched the brochure guide for _anywhere_ Shera and her male companion could've gone. The ex-mercenary had already been informed of what had gotten Cid so worked up (though, honestly, he wasn't sure what the big deal over an engagement ring was. Cid had already assured him that Shera moving out wouldn't be so bad), but everything seemed so…bland.

Well, mostly because the situation itself didn't involve Cloud. And the pilot hadn't _exactly_ asked for any help dealing with his problems. Still, the delivery boy was worried about him. It was…_unusual_ to see Cid act in such a manner. The Captain always prided himself in what a **man** he was and how nothing affected him. At this point, nothing could be further from the truth…as far as being a man, that was. Not to mention, Cid's reaction to the situation made Cloud worry about Shera and her companion even more. He didn't _really_ want Cid to find them. He had phoned Yuffie and Red, explaining the situation in extensive detail. They were to meet him at the entrance an hour later, thanks to their Rent-A-Dune-Buggy.

Now, Cid was gone, searching for the accessory shop (or whatever) where Shera's "boyfriend" was supposedly at. Cloud was determined to find them first, and any help was appreciated. When that time came, the former mercenary was waiting with arms crossed and foot tapping, butterflies attacking his stomach.

"So, what's going on?" Yuffie asked once she and her animal companion got off of the tram.

"It's _bad._" Cloud looked around to make sure that unwanted ears weren't listening. Then he looked back to the Materia thief, "He's _way_ worse than before."

"How?" Red inquired.

"I guess that that Bradley dude is going to propose to Shera. Cid's nuttin' up about it."

"_What!?_" Yuffie shrieked, her jaw dropping to the ground. She literally had to stoop over to pick it up. "What did you just say, Cloud!?"

"It's true," he nodded. "Cid's hunting them down right now…which is _why_ we've got to get to them first."

"This is quite a mess," Red agreed. "How about we split up into two groups?"

"Good idea," Cloud concurred. "We'll cover much more ground this way."

"All right," Yuffie cleared her throat. "If you were in Shera's shoes with her hot new boyfriend, Cloud, where would _you_ be?"

This caused the blonde ex-mercenary to frown…deeply. "Well I _hope_ I'm never that _way._"

"Cloud! This is for **pretend!**"

"All right! All right!" Cloud threw his arms up. "I'd…uh…be in a hotel, okay!?"

Red and Yuffie were both taken aback. Cloud blinked.

"What? What did I say?"

"You…You're awfully fast for just a first date, Cloud. You'd already want to do…_that?_" Yuffie gulped.

The older man would never get them. He just…never…would.

"NO! You _asked_ me a freaking question, Yuffie! How am I supposed to answer something like **that!?**"

"Well…" she shifted her weight to her back leg. "That _is_ true…All right, you search the hotel and Red and I will search the Battle Arena. Oh! We called Barret, too. He was already in Corel, so he's been here for a while waiting for you."

Cloud nodded in understanding. "I'll go look for him then." He was about to leave when he suddenly stopped, a thought crossing his mind, "Oh…I called Tifa a while ago, but I haven't seen her yet."

"We'll let her know you're looking for her," Red said and turned to dash off into the amusement park.

\/\/\/

"Don't _lie_ to me!" Cid spat, his eyes darkening. "I don't tolerate liars very well!"

The man behind the counter cowered, his bottom lip trembling. "I…I'm **not** lying to you, sir! I honestly have **no** idea who you're talking about!"

"This **is** the only accessory shop in the Gold Saucer, right? How the hell could you **not** know who Palmer is!? He **called** you earlier!"

"I don't **know** a Palmer!" the store owner argued. "I don't even **know** a Bradshaw!"

_Can't remember his name fer the life of me. Oh well._ "You son of a bitch, you're hiding something! You don't wanna see me angry…"

"I think you already **are!**" The man was beyond frightened, and seemed only seconds away from running into the back and locking himself in. But the Captain would probably catch and beat him up first. "I don't know who you're talking about! I swear it!"

"What's going on here, gentlemen?"

Cid turned his attention to the giant moogle behind him and recognized the stuffed body.

"Spybot?" the pilot narrowed his eyes. "The hell you doin' here?"

"I'm _always_ here," Cait Sith said. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Nothing that should concern you," Cid replied and looked back to the storekeeper, "I just have some business to settle up with…" the other man was gone. "…Dammit. He got away."

"Well, perhaps that's a good thing," Cait Sith bounced up behind him, and the cat looked him squarely in the eye. "What's got you so worked up, Cid?"

"I already said it don't concern you, Spybot." Cid waved him away and turned to walk off. "But I'm gonna be back here in 'bout five minutes with my Venus Gospel, and that guy better be scared by then."

"Woah! Woah!" the stuffed toy bounded in front of the pilot, waving its cat-like arms. "Hang on a second, Cid. That sounds serious. I've never known you to be a murderer or anything."

"And why would _you_ care? You gonna report me or something?"

The cat sighed. "Aren't we _beyond_ all of this, Cid? I thought we were friends."

"Once a spy, _always_ a spy," the foulmouthed man sidestepped around Cait Sith. "I got nuthin' ta say."

"What? That's so cold! I'm here to help, Cid! Give me a chance, why don't you?"

"This is a little more important than jus' swapping man stories, Spybot. I can't afford for you to be blabbing on me."

Cait Sith followed heel after Cid. "What can I do to make you trust me?"

"Nuthin' and that's my final answer."

"Well, I can't just let you go and murder an innocent civilian, Cid."

The pilot rolled his eyes, "Damn hypocrite. You had **no** problem doin' that to all the people you and Shinra killed."

"Gah, you make me feel worse."

"It _should_ make you feel worse."

"Come on, Cid, _please_ tell me? Just…give me a chance. This is unlike you, even through the exterior demeanor of your grumpiness."

Cid turned on him, eyes ablaze. "You wanna know what the hell my problem is? I'll tell ya! Damn Shera and her 'friend' are eloping and the bastard is buying her an engagement present and _that_ little punk…" he pointed back to the store from which he had just exited, "…knows something and ain't **tellin'** me!"

At Cid's huff, Cait Sith was left taken aback, words unable to form. Taking the small window of opportunity of the silence, Cid turned to leave again.

"W-Well…this…is a surprise…" Cait Sith's voice brought the foulmouthed man to a halt, and the pilot snorted.

"To **you,** mebbe. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait!" Cait Sith cried and then clapped his tiny cat paws together. "Let's go to Wonder Square and get you calmed down. I think we can figure out a plan there."

"…No. Just…no. I want to handle this on my own."

"Come _on,_ Cid! Just trust me this once! Let me make it up to you for all the bad things I've done, all right?"

Cid _knew_ this was a bad idea. He just _knew_ it.

\/\/\/

Cloud met Barret in the lobby of the hotel by coincidence, but the spiky haired man was relieved nonetheless.

"Awright, Cloud, spill da beans. Waz' goin' on with Cid? Yuffie said it was important. Somethin' 'bout Cid nuttin' up 'bout Shera's new boyfriend."

"Yeah," Cloud straightened his back and proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes talking about everything from the two days prior to what was happening now. At the end of the story, Barret looked bored.

"What? You tellin' me dat Cid is _jealous?_ Psh, serves the bastard right aftah how he treated Shera all dem years. If I was her, I'd say good riddance."

"That's…sort of what he said about _her,_" Cloud scratched the back of his head. "Obviously now, we know that's a lie."

"He say so 'imself?"

"No, but I'd like to think I know him a little better than that."

Barret snorted. "I dun see why we gotta help _him._ He brought this all on 'imself."

Cloud frowned. "I know that, but don't you think it's the right thing to do just _slightly?_"

Barret chuckled, "Since when do _you_ care what the right thing is?"

The younger man was losing patience. "Don't patronize me, Barret. Are you going to help me or not?"

The gunman shrugged, shaking his head. "What choice do I got? 'Course I will. What'cha want me to do?"

"We want to find Shera and her companion before Cid does. I'll guess we'll start looking in the hotel first."

"Ya, Yuffie told me ta meet ya over 'ere. Guess we'll split up then, eh?"

Cloud nodded.

\/\/\/

Cid wasn't feeling much better, even after winning sixty-five GP at the Arm Wrestling game. He looked to Cait Sith, who was shuffling his fortunes. During the trip here, he had told the toy the entire story and how much strain it had put on the pilot.

"Hey, Spybot, ya thinkin' of something or not!?"

"I am! I am! Give me a break, would you? Go play another game and let me do my work." The stuffed toy gestured to a large game machine with a joystick in the middle. "How about that one?"

Cid frowned once he realized what it was. "Mog House? Hell no! I ain't playing something that sounds as stupid as that!"

"Come on," Cait Sith encouraged. "How bad can it be? Besides, it'll give you something to do while I think of a plan."

Cid growled, snarled, and cursed for three minutes straight without using any other words but 'a,' 'this,' and 'it.' In the end, however, he found himself standing above the game of Mog House.

_"This is Mog's house. It's in Mog Forest on Mt. Mog."_

"Stupid as hell," Cid mumbled, fumbling with the joystick.

"Easy, easy," Cait Sith said, giving that stupid, cheesy smile that he always did.

_"The beginning of another day in the life of a Mog."_ The pilot watched as a nasty white creature wandered out of its house made out of a huge tree…or mushroom…or something. _"This year, Mog is pipapopupo years old."_

"YAWN," the Captain faked, waving his hand over his mouth.

_"…that's twenty-eight in human years. He's at that age when he should be looking for a mate."_

"Hey, you're older than that," Cait Sith pointed out. "Aren't you long past due finding a mate, Cid?"

Cid flipped the toy his middle finger and looked back at his game, feeling much more depressed than before. _Damn…the toy has a point. A thirty-two year old bachelor jus' ain't right._ Suddenly, Cid lost all interest in the game, underfeeding the poor Mog and allowing it to starve to death. Mog was unable to prove itself to the female Mog and destroyed life for all Moogles everywhere. Cid sighed, took a step back, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Shit…now I'm depressed."

"What? Truth hurt?"

Cid turned on him. "Ya want my foot up yer ass, Spybot?"

"Gosh, anyone ever tell you that you MSB too often?"

"And just **what** the hell is **that!?**"

The toy didn't answer the question. Instead, he looked scared.

Cait Sith waddled back, "Uh…uh…Well, as for where they might've gone, how about the Gondola?"

The pilot withdrew one of the few cigarettes he had had that day, and proceeded to light it.

"Shera's scared of heights. No way she'd go on that."

"Cid, there's no smoking in here…" the toy snapped its mouth shut at Cid's grunt of indifference. "Uh…well, all of the attractions are free tonight. What about the play?"

"She dun care for 'em."

Cait Sith leaned forward. "You sure about that? She's seemed to surprise you more than once in the last few days."

The cigarette instantly tasted dull and less than satisfactory. Cid dropped it to the floor and stomped it out with the heel of his shoe. _All those public outings…That dress she was wearing…That's the second time in two minutes he's been right._ "…Can't even enjoy my own cigarette." He focused his attention on his stuffed companion. "All right, Spybot, take me to the Gondola."

"Now we're talking."

\/\/\/

Sorry. Couldn't help myself with the Cloud volleyball scene. I know it was OOC, but it's something some friends and I made up a long time ago and since the scene was in Costa Del Sol, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to use it. I think after reading that, it's safe to warn that that won't be the ONLY sporadic moment in the story, but this story's already on crack, so I think you know that by now, right? …Right? …Or not.


	4. You, Me, And The Stars!

**Disclaimer:** Yeah. I still don't own FFVII. Bummer.

**A/N: **You think you've seen 'cracked out,' Espers? You've seen NUTHIN til this chapter. XD And he03, you will definitely find out about Shera and Bradley. I can only hope that it satisfies you when you do. (Grin) Thank you to all of my reviewers! I'll try harder to make my updates more periodic.

**Chapter Four**

**You, Me, And The Stars!**

**\/\/\/**

Things were looking fuzzier than they should have. The walls were spinning and the floor seemed to dip deeper than it had coming in. Reno and Rude were sitting at the far end of the counter, their barstools appearing to sit much higher than they had before. The Turks were drunk.

"Man, these have been some good times, haven't they, Rude?" Reno held his drink up in a toast, chuckling with glazed eyes. Rude only grunted as he pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "I mean, sure, there have been our ups and downs, but, man, all in all, it's not too bad. I actually enjoy the job."

Rude staggered to his feet, holding the counter with both of his hands for support. Once he had successfully regained his balance, he reached out to take Reno's hand, who missed it several times with his blurry vision. He would have fallen from his stool, but the blow of Rude's old seat cushioned his chest when he doubled over and gagged. Rude immediately went to help his friend.

Reno grabbed his shoulders, nearly pulling Rude down on top of him in an effort to stand up straight himself and began to laugh again. "Yup, never better. I still remember the day I joined, too. Then there was this huge party and everyone went streakin' on Halloween…"

Rude was supporting the other man's weight with an arm under Reno's, and the two slowly headed for the door, neither able to effectively tell what was in front of them. Plants were knocked over, chairs were overturned, but all in all, the door was the best security once found.

"Let's head back to the hotel," Rude suggested, his voice slurred slightly, but obviously held with much better composure than his comrade's.

"Damn, is _that_ the way to spend the rest of the day? In a room? Let's just find the next bar."

Rude couldn't tell a bar apart from a bathroom if he had been given the choice.

\/\/\/

She was there upon Yuffie's request to help find Shera, who had gone missing, apparently, until her whole world had gone black and was redecorated with expensive linen cloth, velvet curtains with gold lining, and an oversized, red, silk bed. Her lack of movement indicated that she was gagged and tied, and she looked down at herself to see a much revealing black dress. When anyone had had time to strap it on her, she wasn't sure and hadn't been aware of it.

_It's in really bad taste, that's for sure. Whoever picked it out has a horrible sense of fashion._

She suddenly caught the scent of jasmine and some other heavily strong smell like peppermint. Either way, it tickled her nose and made her sneeze. Tifa Lockheart suddenly jolted up at the sound of footsteps, and she could've sworn she could hear a sort of song play in the background. It sounded something like…Don Corneo's theme…

"How'dya like my house? Pretty big, isn't it?"

Tifa's head whirled towards the intimidating set of stairs to her left as a rather pompous Don Corneo, still clad in his satin, red coat with white fluffs, stalked down the stairs, grinning.

_How did he survive that fall from Wutai? Is he like…immortal?_

Twiddling his Twinkie sized fingers, Don reached over and pulled the gag from Tifa's mouth.

"You'll never get away with this, Don Corneo!"

He puffed out his chest, bringing decorated hands with jewel embossed rings to the collar of his shirt. "But, my dear, I already _haaave._"

She frowned, leaning back in the seat of the big couch she was seated upon.

"What am I doing here!?" she cried.

"You are one of the participants in my game for finding the perfect wife," he explained. "Let me ask _you_ something, darling. _Who's_ your _daddy?_"

"My daddy's dead."

"Wrong! **I'm** your daddy!"

She shivered at the thought. He seemed amused. He leaned down over her, looking at her face with such a dark intent, that she dared not to think it. He chuckled and then stood up straight.

"You and I are gonna have lots of fun, babe!" He seized her by the shoulders, puckering up his fat lips.

"Quit it! That hurts!"

"Yeah, but only for a second! Let me kiss your boo-boo!"

"What's going on here!?"

The intrusion caused Don to break away from Tifa, who immediately glanced up to see a man dressed in a blue suit, microphone in hand. His eyes were wide, and his mouth, lined by a thin moustache and goatee, was agape. But, then again, Reeve always _did_ manage to come at the wrong place during the wrong time. And that Don Corneo theme that Tifa had been hearing the whole time was gone now, as though it had been vanished away to some far off place.

But she wasn't quite prepared to see Reeve knocked out by such celerity demonstrated by someone like Don Corneo.

Five minutes later, the Shinra executive and Cait Sith mastermind was sitting next to Tifa, dressed in a snazzy, Hawaiian vest with a white tank top and soft, red pants. Even the polished, black and white shoes were a bit of a romantic touch. Constrained and bound just as Tifa was, Reeve seemed **most** displeased with the outcome. And dammit, Tifa could hear that Don Corneo music again in her head.

"Now I got me **two** pretty ponies to ride! I'm gonna stick my spurs so far into you, babe."

Reeve gagged and Tifa was speechless.

"You…you would actually…" the Shinra executive trailed off.

Don Corneo shrugged. "When you're left out in the wild without anything to fondle for six months on end, you learn that…anything goes."

"Dear Lord!" Reeve cried, struggling to loosen his binds.

"Those ain't comin' off," the Don remarked, watching as the man effortlessly tried. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

Reeve, finally settling down, glared at him, and muttered, "Fat bastard."

Don sat down across from them, rubbing his hands together. "Now, who gets to go first?"

"You can't do this!" the former leader of the Urban Planning Development shouted, causing Tifa to pull away from him in fright. "I'm on a quest! An _important_ quest!"

"I'm on a quest, too. I'm going **down,** baby!"

It was enough to silence the Shinra executive.

"Don Corneo, you're the most vile, disgusting man it's ever been my misfortune to know!" Tifa picked up the slack when Reeve quit. The Don only smiled.

"That's the nicest compliment anyone's ever given to me, babe."

The bartender grimaced, realizing her plan had not quite worked in the right way.

"Will no one help us!?" Reeve shouted into the sky.

"I'll help you right out of your clothes, darling," the Don twirled one side of his moustache and the other man looked close to vomiting.

\/\/\/

"Whaddya givin' me _that_ look for!?" Cid shouted at the lady behind the window. "Just 'cuz I wanna go on the Gondola with a male stuffed toy does **not** imply anything 'bout me! Now give me the damned tickets before I overturn your little outhouse and roll you down the damn hill!"

The lady had appeared confident at first. But if _anyone_ had been _anyone,_ they would've known that no matter what, right or wrong, no one could argue with Cid Highwind. When she had denied him granted access to the Gondola, she immediately regretted that course of action afterwards. Cid had looks that _could_ kill, and that had nothing to do with his attractiveness. Going from a smug face to more of a sorry one, the lady threw together some sloppy apology, looking anywhere but at his eyes.

"Y-Yessir…" the frightened woman pulled the two tickets out from the machine in front of her and held them out with a shaky hand to Cid Highwind. He grunted as he snatched them out of her hand and turned to Cait Sith.

The first thing he noticed was how paralyzed the toy looked.

"Spybot?" Cid quirked an eyebrow, hesitant on handing out the ticket. "You okay?"

Cait Sith did not reply at first, making the pilot feel a bit uneasy, and then a soft whisper emerged.

"I'm afraid I can't go with you this time, Cid. I'm…uh…sort of in a bind right now. You're gonna have to go by yourself."

"What!? You and I are in this **together,** Spybot! You can't abandon me now!"

There was another round of silence before Cait Sith spoke again, "The people here will take care of my stuffed body for the moment, but you'd better get on the Gondola before Shera and that guy get away." There was another pause. "She _is_ up there, right?"

"Yeah," Cid answered, a little more calmly, remembering watching the car take off two minutes prior. Cid couldn't _believe_ the lunatic of a toy had been right. For as long as Cid had known, Shera was **terrified** of heights. But when he saw Shera take Bradley's hand and step onto the car, he wondered why it was he had thought that in the first place. And now that they were so high in the air and Cid couldn't go after them directly, he had immediately threatened the woman at the front. "But what the hell is happening to you?"

"I…I can't talk now! He's coming back!" Then Cait went silent.

The pilot stood there, awkwardly. "Spybot…? Spybot…? Ya there?" This was all very confusing, Cid found. First, Shera and Bradley had run off together and now Cait was turning chicken at the moment of battle. What else could go wrong? After a moment of no response, the Captain frowned and kicked the fat, white Mog. "Fine, screw you." He turned to walk off, boarding the Gondola, and then immediately looked back out at the lady he had earlier threatened. "Yo! You'd better speed this thing up! I need to get right in behind the other Gondola, ya hear!?"

"B-But sir…!"

"HEY!"

"A-All right…" The pilot found that it was a very interesting thing when people decided not to argue with him anymore. They just gave up their spines like they were giving up their will to live. Well, maybe that was a little _drastic…_

Cid plopped down onto the seat, folding his arms over his chest, and stared ahead. The takeoff was a bit bumpy, but Cid could feel things begin to speed up and he leaned forward, squinting. He knew the second car was up ahead, and it gave Cid the jitters. _The bastard is in there with __**her!**__ Man…what if he's proposing to her now? What __**then!?**__ …I'll jump into that car and push him out the window, that's what! Damn rich boy trying to hit on naïve women…_

Then he found himself impatiently tapping his foot. He frowned. _The hell am I so nervous fer? This shouldn't be a problem. Why the hell am I even up here in this freakin' car, anyway? Must be out of my damn tree._ Then Cid realized how incompetent those short little questions and answers sounded. He didn't exactly know _why_ he was up in the Gondola or what had motivated him to come to Gold Saucer in the first place. Sure, he cared about whether or not Shera made some terrible mistake in her life, but marriage was different.

Cid had never met the guy, save the two minutes he and Shera had been on the porch together, but every red flag with an ungodly reason that he and Shera should _not_ be together popped up in Cid's mind. The guy was rich, handsome, had a suave way of talking, and probably a swell personality that made him a chick magnet. He was the very kind of person that all women dreamed about, but was warned about by their mothers.

And Shera…well…Shera _had_ saved his life—twice, to be precise—and _had_ been right about the oxygen tank. Despite his negative thoughts of her, he wanted to see her happy, he supposed, but he knew about guys like Bradshaw Whatever-his-last-name-was. It would be cruel to let Shera go off with some guy like that, especially when he always saw her as the type to have no real experience with men. _Well, after the time we've spent together, that's my opinion. Guess it's a poor judgment, but who's keepin' track?_

Cid shifted in his seat as his Gondola car approached Shera's from the other rail. He bit his bottom lip in frustration, anticipating what he would see. _Wait, what? That sounds stupid. So what if they're making out? So what if he's on bended knee, her hand in his, and a velvet box in the vicinity? So what if she's crying and has her arms wrapped around his neck after saying "yes" ta him?_

In the flash of a second, Cid was on the other side of the car, leaning far out the other window, only a few feet behind Shera's car. _I'll kill him, __**that's**__ what._ He could make out the sound of a soft and delicate voice coming from the other Gondola.

"…and I really think he's catching onto us. We have to be more careful or else he'll suspect something is going on." Cid was gripping the frame until his knuckles turned white and lost all feeling. It was Shera's voice.

"Hmm…probably so. But what do you expect? He followed us all the way out to Costa Del Sol. It will only be a matter of time until he shows up here."

The pilot's face changed just as fast as Bradley's words had left his mouth. A dark cloud had materialized above him.

"Yes, I can't believe he came there. He has no reason to suspect anything yet. I'm afraid he might start questioning my habits though. He already found out I was stealing the mail."

"Are you _serious?_ We may have no choice but to tell him, Shera. I'm certain he'll understand once he realizes that it's truly for the better. I'm rather tired of beating around the bush."

"Me too. All right, it's settled. When we get back to Rocket Town, we'll tell him together."

"Agreed. Now, let's enjoy the rest of our trip, shall we?"

She giggled. "Let's go to the play after this."

"My, that's a splendid idea."

Cid didn't know _how_ to feel. Betrayed? No…Betrayal was too strong of a word. …Or was it? How could he be so blind? It hadn't been that Bradshaw had _just_ been after Shera, but, evidently, she had feelings for him too.

_I shoulda known…_ He blew air through his lips. _I shoulda known by the way she's been actin' that this wasn't no one-sided affair. She and the punk have been carrying on for some time now._

He had been left in the dark. And he hated being left in the dark. He had been lied to, and left on the backburner, and was now the third wheel, and…

"Damn them both," Cid murmured, his car slowly falling behind theirs as the speed began to decrease. Almost as though there was a malfunction…or something that was happening that was better left unseen. That made him angrier.

He wanted to jump into the other car, scream at the two of them, or at least beat one of them to a pulp. Here he had gone to save the world and risked his own damn life only to come back and find out about all of this! How ungrateful could one person be!? Who _knew_ what had been going on before that time! He could have come to the house and the two could've been talking…or kissing…and that eventually led to…

Cid growled and kicked the bench in despair. Then he sat back down, looking in his jacket for a cigarette and waiting for the miserable trip to be over with.

\/\/\/

Barret came barging out of the hotel as fast as he could, eager to get his stupid "mission" over with so that he could go back to Kalm with Marlene. He hated troubling Aeris' mother, Elmyra to babysit her, but he was in Corel anyway because of some repairs and things just got worse after Yuffie had called. Either way, he was angrier at having to run someone else's errands. Cid was no exception.

He stopped at the various set of "tombstones" meant to be used to deposit a person to another place around the Gold Saucer. He frowned as he contemplated where he should go first. _If I was a woman, where would I go first? …Now __**dat's**__ a scary thought…_ Big burly Barret scratched his chin, remembering that he had to shave soon, and then caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look at it and realized that it was a cleverly made tombstone hiding some distance away from the others.

"Da hell is dat thing doin' over there? Never seen it before…" Curiosity overwhelming him, he wandered beyond the other graves and to the back, leaning forward to read the tombstone.

\/\/\/

Reeve was uncomfortable. Tifa was worse off.

The Don was wandering back and forth, grinning, his fingers twitching with excitement.

"Hoo boy," he said, licking his lips. "Where should I begin first?"

"How about letting us go?" Reeve's monotonous request was rewarded with a hand on his thigh. The Shinra executive shuddered and bounced himself away to the other edge of the couch. Don sat in between them, placing a hand on each of his victim's shoulders.

"Ain't this great, my little chickadees? Just you, me, and the **stars!**" At this, he threw his arms up over his head, spreading them wide as he tossed his head back and laughed.

"Gods, he's really going to do it! He's really going to violate us!" Reeve cried.

"Cloud!" Tifa shouted to no one in particular. "Where the hell _are_ you!?"

All of a sudden there was a large crash that resounded throughout the room and Reeve realized that that stupid little ditty he recognized to be the Don's "theme" instantly vanished. Several boards and other scattered debris circled on the floor around a rather large black man, who was laying flat on his back. He cursed and struggled to sit up, shaking the fall from his head.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered angrily, rubbing the sore spot on his back. "Why da hell didn't dat thing **say** where it fuckin' went? Damn near paralyzed myself."

"Barret!" Tifa screamed, hope rising in her voice. A wide smile appeared on her face.

Barret looked up at the sound of his name, eyes unfocused, and he blinked several times. When he reopened them, his jaw dropped.

"T-Tifa!?" Then he looked to Reeve. "You! You dat…**dat…!**"

Don Corneo stepped in the way. "What?"

The big, burly man squinted. "Hey…Hey I know you…" After a few moments of unsuccessful recognition, Barret pushed himself to his feet and stepped in a little closer. "Wait…you dat…dat **Ron** dude! Shit! Let Tifa and da man go right now!"

"Why don't you try and make me?" Don spread his fingers over his chest, the jewel embossed rings sparkling like diamonds.

"I'll do better dan dat! I'll knock yer balls straight off!" Barret clutched his gun arm and began to shoot around the place, destroying vases, pictures, and other fine assortments, such as the red, velvety curtains above the bed.

Reeve watched him run forward, bullets still shooting everywhere, and then something happened. It was all so fast that the Shinra executive couldn't even _believe_ it! One minute Barret was running like he was going to jump and flatten the Don like a badly shaped pancake. The next minute, Barret was on the floor, unconscious, and a very smug Don was standing above him. There had been a punch…or so Reeve thought. He couldn't exactly remember.

"I don't believe this," he muttered as he watched Don Corneo drag Barret off into another room.

Things were a little dim after that. The next thing he knew, a very unhappy and fettered Barret Wallace was sitting on the couch in between Tifa and himself. A beret rested upon his head and star shaped glittery glasses (multicolored feathers added on the ends, of course) decorated his usually fierce eyes. A fuchsia dress shirt was laid underneath a brown scarf that was wrapped loosely around his shoulders, and black suede pants crunched as he tried to move his knees and remove himself from his binds. Cowboy boots were brought on where the pants left off.

The Don was walking down the stairs again, the same theme that was ringing in Reeve's ears earlier starting up again. He cursed the Don's theme.

"Tic Tac Toe! Three in a row! The Don **scores** again!" He hopped down the last two stairs, cracking his knuckles.

"Da hell is _dis!?_ Fuchsia ain't my color, bitch!" Barret looked down, staring from right to left at the atrocity that had been placed upon him. Such _heresy!_

"Would you rather I take it _off?_" the Don asked in that ever so cunning voice of his. Barret's voice immediately went down twenty notches in volume.

"No, dat's…dat's awright, thank you."

"Gah," Reeve sat there, scowling.

"Don, I hope you're ready for the consequences because when Cloud finds you, you'll be in lots of trouble!" Tifa sat up straight in her seat. "He'll make sure you'll never be able to walk again! He'll give you such a nutcrunch that you'll have to go searching **internally** to find them! Cloud will **never** let you get away with this! He's loyal to his friends and will search all ends of the earth to find them! He'll—"

"Give it a rest, Tifa!" Reeve spat, his patience thinning. "Cloud ain't ever going to find us and that's that! Besides, we're bound to be violated **far** sooner than he can find out about it! So take it like a woman, all right!?"

Tifa's mouth snapped shut and she looked at Reeve with such a face that read _"Whose side are you __**on,**__ buddy!?"_ Still, she said nothing more and sulked.

Barret forced a smile. "Yer not…_really_ like that, are ya? I mean, we're _men,_ right? Men gotta stick together!"

"That's right! Literally!" Then the Don threw his head back for the umpteenth time and laughed…Laughed like he had won…because, technically, he _had._

Then Barret…big, burly, buff ol' Barret…doubled over and began to cry. "I **knew** I shoulda got married again! Damn it all!"

"It's up to Cloud to save us now," Tifa repeated softly, though Reeve was sick of hearing it.

On the other hand, he _was_ the only one who could save them. After all, he _was_ the leader.

"I wonder where he is…?" the Shinra executive wondered aloud.

\/\/\/

"**Now **where the hell did everyone go!?" Cloud was running back and forth throughout the hotel, angrier than when he had first arrived. Barret was nowhere to be found, he couldn't reach Yuffie on the PHS, and Cid wasn't in the accessory shop anymore…Well, not that he expected him to be.

He slapped his thighs in frustration and stomped out to all the tombstones.

"Dammit, Tifa was supposed to meet me here, too. All my friends are blowing me off! What a bunch of assholes…" Scowling and saying other things that were quite inappropriate, Cloud wandered to Speed Square, questioning if he hadn't passed them going some other way.

Sure enough, they weren't there. He cursed again and kicked the railing, instantly regretting it and grabbing his leg in pain. He lost balance and tripped, falling to the floor.

Then the PHS rang.

Digging into his pocket with one hand and still favoring his leg with the other, he withdrew the tiny phone and flipped it open.

"Ouch…Hello? Damn! This is Cloud."

"…_Cloud? What are you doing? It sounds like you're molesting yourself."_ It was Yuffie.

The blonde ex-mercenary was _definitely_ more irate than when he had first come to Gold Saucer. "Shut up, would ya? Why haven't you been answering the PHS when I called?"

"_I've been busy, too, Cloud! Have you found them yet?"_

"No!" he spat into the receiver. "In fact, everyone's up and disappeared on me! Barret's gone, Tifa never showed up, and Cid is probably off mangling Shera's new boyfriend!"

"_All right, all right. Meet Red and I back at the tram and we'll talk. There's __**gotta**__ be someone who knows where they are."_

Cloud's eyes narrowed. "So I'll take it that you don't know where they are, either."

"_Sorry, Cloud. We're trying, though. Just meet us back at the tram, got it? And don't be late!"_

The other end hung up and Cloud sighed, closing the phone and putting it away. He used the rail to aid him as he struggled to stand, limping. When he turned, he saw the body of Cait Sith being wheeled away on a cart by one of the Gold Saucer employees.

"Cait Sith?"

The robot said nothing, and the employee was ready to turn the corner.

"Cait Sith!" Cloud hobbled over to the stairs and the man wheeling the white, stuffed toy away stopped, startled. "Cait Sith, what's going on?"

There was only silence and the blonde former mercenary wasn't sure what to do. Normally, the stuffed toy was overly talkative, and cheerful. This wasn't at _all_ like him. He tapped the white moogle on the shoulder.

"Cait, this isn't funny. I'm really not in the mood to be screwed with. What are you doing here?"

He was rewarded with another round of silence. The creases around his lips deepened.

"Son of a—"

"Cloud," it came as a low, hoarse whisper. "Cloud, you gotta help us."

"Cait?" Cloud quirked an eyebrow.

"We're in trouble, Cloud. You gotta come and _fast!_"

"Huh? Come where? Who's with you?"

"C-Can't talk anymore! He's coming! Hurry Cloud!"

Then Cait Sith was heard no more.

"Cait Sith? …Cait Sith?" Cloud turned away. "Gah! What the hell ever! How am I supposed to help you if I don't know where you are!? …I'm gonna go find Yuffie."

\/\/\/

There should've been gray hairs coming out of Cid Highwind's head. Or at least he should have been bald from tearing out his hair. He couldn't believe it. He **simply** couldn't believe it. How could Shera **DO** this!? She had been carrying on in a relationship with this guy and she hadn't even bothered to so much as **TELL** him about it! Things like these were important!

Or at least…Cid thought so.

He wasn't hurt or anything stupid like that. He was just pissed. First, she stole his mail, and then she took off on him without caring about what happened to the house! Cid wasn't good with making dinner or dusting or any of that crap. How could she just up and change everything without warning? And now she was going to get _married_ to the numbskull!

He wanted to give her a piece of his mind and tell her _exactly_ what he thought of her and Bradshaw or whatever the flying pheasant his name was. He wanted to tell her how selfish and self-centered she was for pulling all of this, just after he had helped save the world, no less! Most of all, he wanted to break her boyfriend's arm.

He followed them to the attraction center where a play was being shown for the night. They were stopped by one of the employees, who was waving a flyer at them, and he hid quite some distance behind.

"Tonight's Enchantment Night! All the attractions are free." He stepped forward and gently took Shera by the arm. "How 'bout it you two? There's going to be an entertaining show in Event Square!"

Shera looked to Bradley, who was nodding.

"I think it will be fun."

A smile lit her face. It was a smile that she seemed to be showing more to him than she _ever_ had for Cid. The pilot stood in the dark with a clenched fist.

"You're right. Let's do it."

"Hey, that's great!" the guy said and stepped aside, allowing them to pass.

A moment after they had vanished, Cid walked up to the man, who blocked his way.

"Sorry, sir," the employee held a hand up to Cid in refusal. "Couples only beyond this point."

_Access denied…_ "Lissen, punk. I ain't in a very cheery mood and you'd do better if you didn't stand in my way, else I'm gonna beat your ass black and blue, got it?"

"Sir, I don't make the rules, I just enfor—"

Cid sent his fist flying into the man's face. The crumpled body was thrown backwards and the employee landed in an unconscious state on the floor, blood trailing down his seemingly broken nose. Dusting his hand on his pant leg, Cid walked past him to hear another man talking. He peeked inside to see Shera and Brad-dog in front of him.

"Congratulations!" the fat man cheered. "You are our one hundredth couple today! You two will be the leads in tonight's show!"

"W-What?" Shera was even more nervous. She clung to Bradley's arm. "But…But I…"

"She don't do well with crowds, you big jerk," Cid muttered, observing the situation. "If ya knew anything 'bout her, ya'd know **that!**"

"Shera," Brad-wuss began, "I'll be right here beside you, I promise it will be all right." The Captain had the urge to stick a finger down his throat and gag.

Shera was still nervous and the fat man tried to reassure her, "Oh, now, it's not hard. Just play it however you want to and the rest of the cast will cover up for you."

Again, the female engineer looked from the fat man to Bradley. At his nod, she agreed.

"All right. This might be fun."

Cid wanted to kick the wall.

"Come this way," the fat man guided them to the back.

Now unguarded, Cid went in, glanced around, and then his head was filled with such a cruel idea, it would make Sephiroth embarrassed. Well…maybe not _that _bad. Nevertheless, he couldn't be talked out of this one. He followed Shera and her companion to the back.

He avoided them when they were led to the changing room and tightly turned the corner with great caution. People were coming and going, but most were already waiting at the stage. Now was his chance to get back at them for screwing up his life.

A door could be seen from across the hall labeled 'extra costumes' and Cid quickly moved inside. He shut the door behind him and looked at the stacks and stacks of costumes piled on top of each other in the room. Some ranged from older times, to westerns, to even futuristic. Then he saw one that was _perfect._ He turned back to the door, wary of trespassers, and then lunged forward to snatch the costume up from its spot on top of a box.

--

The Don is pure humor. Nothing more. …We think. I actually LIKE the Don, so I'm not _really_ bashing him. The whole Don idea in the story came from a 3D Movie Maker thing my brother, his friend, and I did. Sorry about the crackness. …No. Not really.


	5. Congratulating Failures

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FFVII. I own Cocoa and the blatant Mary Sue. HAR, HAR, HAR! 'Dragonmaster' comes from Lunar Silver Star Story Complete (Dragonmaster Dyne, Dragonmaster Alex, and now it's Dragonmaster Joe). And sorry that Dragonmaster Joe is such a jerk in this, but…I never liked him in the game anyway. Oh, and Rufus' middle name really ISN'T Allen, but I have a street in my neighborhood called 'Rufus Allen,' so I thought it was kind of cool. …Never mind.

**A/N:** Thanks to my reviewers! I'll post the rest of this eventually. Only if you really care.

**So from now on,** I'll be writing my stories in **order of importance.** If you want to see more of **this story,** please review and tell me so, or vote in the poll on my author's page. Thanks much!

**\/\/\/**

**Chapter Five**

**Congratulating Failures**

**\/\/\/**

"Long, long ago…" a deep voice narrated, "an evil shadow appeared over the peaceful kingdom of Galdia…" There was a soft clearing of the throat and the narrator continued on, "Princess Rosa was just kidnapped by the Evil Dragon King, Valvados. What will become of her? Just then, the legendary hero, Alfred, appears!"

Bradley, dressed in a suit of armor, dashed upon the stage, brandishing his sword to the audience. Then he took a gallant bow, to which he received much applause. Afterwards, another knight pranced onto the stage and approached Bradley. He got down on bended knee and held his arms out to the rich boy.

"Oh…you must be the legendary hero…Alfred!"

"Aye, it is me!" Bradley confessed in a deep, heroic voice. There was another round of applause.

"I know in my soul," the knight continued. "Please…please save Princess Rosa! Now…Please talk…to the King…!" The knight fell to the back of the stage, making room for a short, fat man dressed in a blue and white robe with a large, gold crown. Bradley obediently approached him.

"Oh, legendary hero, Alfred. You have come to save my beloved Rosa…On the peak of a dangerous mountain dwells the Evil Dragon King, Valvados, who has kidnapped Princess Rosa." The king paused and then looked to the audience. "But…you can't beat the Evil Dragon King now! Talk to the one who can help you…"

From behind, a wizard with a pointy green hat appeared on the stage and Bradley turned to face him.

"Ah, it's the wizard!" Bradley exclaimed, rushing towards him.

"I am the great wizard, Vorman. What do you wish to know?"

As Bradley was about to answer, another voice boomed on the stage.

"The Princess' measurements!"

The actor of Alfred took a step, mouth gaping.

"I didn't say _that!_" Bradley said in a hoarse whisper, eyes widening in terror..

There was a stir of commotion from within the audience, and the narrator made a hasty intervention to calm them.

"What is going to happen next!? Oh…Legendary hero…Look!"

There was a sudden grunt, a crash, followed by an "OUCH!" Abruptly afterwards, a large dragon, wired from above, was hurled out onto the stage, carrying Shera. The two toppled forward, and the dragon quickly got to its feet, still holding her.

"W-What ho! You _dare_ ignore the Evil Dragon King!?" The dragon threw its head back and arms up, "Gaaaaaaaaah—DAMMIT!"

The dragon staggered forward as a large helmet was thrown at the back of its head from offstage. The dragon gave a quick jerk in the direction of whatever it was that was offstage, but saw nothing.

"Line!" hissed the wizard, "_Line!_"

"Oh, uh…" the dragon turned back around. "I am the Evil Dragon King…Valvados! I have not harmed the Princess…I have been expecting…you!"

"P-Please help me…Legendary Hero!" Shera stammered, obviously nervous about speaking on stage. She looked back to the dragon and whispered, "Was that good?"

"Who is your enemy!?" the dragon ignored Shera. "Say it!"

Bradley was just about to say something else when a man in a Sephiroth costume jumped out onto the stage.

"It's that damn wizard!" the Sephiroth man shouted, swinging his plastic Masamune blade.

"W-What?" the wizard stammered.

"No, wait! It's that stupid king!" Sephiroth lunged forward, pushing Bradley out of the way, and sent a kick flying in the King's direction. The fatter man was hurled offstage, followed by loud crashes and breaking objects, until silence overtook the auditorium. Then, footsteps were heard and the King limped back onto the stage, the crown down around his face.

"S-Stop it!" the knight cried, stomping a foot. "This is all wrong!"

Suddenly, Sephiroth slammed the sword into the side of the knight's helmet, causing a reverberating echo, and the knight fell backwards, clutching his head.

"Now, fer the finale…" Sephiroth tossed the Masamune away and reached for the wizard. He effortlessly chucked him off the stage and out into the audience, who immediately began to voice their "boos" and beat the poor man with soda bottles and popcorn.

"I…I…" Bradley stepped backwards, looking to Shera, who was equally puzzled.

"I'll destroy you!" The knight was back on his feet and racing towards Sephiroth. Sephiroth sidestepped and the knight crashed into the dragon. The audience watched as he bounced off of the costume and tumbled backwards, resulting in several sloppy backward rolls.

"Gaaaaaaah! What now…Legendary Hero!?" the Dragon guffawed.

"D-Damn…" Bradley whispered and glanced to the audience. "Uh…" Suddenly, he dashed over to the Evil Dragon King, withdrawing his sword.

"C'mon, rich boy, we all know you've been carrying on with the dragon for quite some time! Let it show!" Sephiroth pushed Bradley into the dragon's arms.

"Gah!"

"What…?" the Evil Dragon King breathed and then pushed Bradley to the floor. He threw his arms up, screaming, "Urrrrrgh! The power of love has defeated me!"

Sephiroth stood above the fallen knight Bradley, foot in the air to smash his face with. He looked back to the attention-hungry dragon, who was jealous that no one was listening to him.

"Ho, ho! You **dare** ignore the Evil Dragon—OOF!"

Sephiroth's knee was in between the legs of the dragon. Major nutcrunch. When the dragon crumpled to the ground, Sephiroth turned to Bradley and Shera.

"I'm king of this ship, now. Anyone wanna argue with me and dey'll find themselves with my hands 'round their neck!"

"Uh…Uh…" the narrator was confused. Evidently, everyone in the play had died or had been captured by Sephiroth. "And the land has been saved by the great knight, Sephir—"

"Shut the hell up!" Sephiroth grabbed the crown from off the King's head, who had been blindly wandering around the stage while all of the commotion was going on, and heaved it to the side panel where the narrator was, striking him in the face. There was a loud scream and then the sound of a falling body.

"S-Security!" the king screamed, running off the stage.

Sephiroth exited through the crowd, darting past them and the angry employees, until he had finally disappeared through the door. Shera was by Bradley's side, helping him to his feet.

"Bradley, are you all right!?"

"Ugh…they…they need to fire that guy…He's a terrible actor and a poor sport…" Bradley adjusted the helmet on his head.

Shera looked away, lost in thought. "He…sounded familiar…Almost as though I knew him…"

\/\/\/

Cid tossed the Sephiroth wig into a well tucked corner, and then lit a cigarette. He didn't feel guilty about ruining the play at all. Earlier, as he had been walking out to the stage in costume, he found a script of that night's act.

There was a kissing scene between Prince Alfred and Princess Rosa.

\/\/\/

"Yuffie!" Cloud met up with the Materia hunter and Red XIII at the entrance. He doubled over, out of breath. "Cait Sith…some…something's happening!"

"What?" Red cut in, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I saw Cait Sith near Speed Square and he said that everyone's in trouble, but he didn't mention who it was or where they were." Cloud sighed, "And on top of finding Cid and Shera…"

Yuffie and Red looked at each other and then back to their leader.

"Cloud, what if you go looking for the others while we look for Cid?" Red suggested. Cloud looked uncomfortable.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I think you two are the **last** people he wants to see right now. Just keep looking for Shera and her boyfriend, all right?"

Yuffie pouted in disgust. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you? I didn't **know** he was borrowing your villa for a reason!"

"Not me," Cloud said. "_Cid_ won't let you live it down. Anyway, you two look for Shera and I'll try to find the others. I'll give you a call if I find them."

"Same here," Red nodded. "And be careful. Things seem like they're getting out of hand."

"Yeah, you be careful too."

\/\/\/

Reno tripped over Rude's feet multiple times on the way back to the hotel. Caught with a limp, Rude still helped carry his friend, despite the agonizing pain. Once Reno started to sing "Dead Puppies," the other drunken Turk couldn't help but hum along. Upon coming back to the hotel, the two staggered into one of the tombstones. Reno nearly took a tumble, but Rude pulled them both back to what little balance they had left.

The duo laughed and diagonally moved past the tombstones, Reno slurring something about good times and beer, and Rude using the tombstone in front of him for support.

He thought that something _may_ have happened after that, but he couldn't remember.

When the dust cleared and the commotion was silenced, Rude could hear the familiar voice of an old enemy and the voice of a former crush. His best friend, lying on his back in a daze, was dragged away by a large, red blob. Then he, too, lost all consciousness, forgetting entirely about the pain he felt from falling through the ceiling.

\/\/\/

Cloud was running around in circles. He had heard something about "Turks," but he figured it to be some kind of sandwich, since the Turks were already gone and all of that good stuff. He couldn't find Cait's stuffed body for the life of him, and that left him back at square one. He went back to the hotel to see if maybe Cid had come back.

\/\/\/

"Three's a crowd, but four's a party! Bring a friend!" The Don jerked his head back, laughing uncontrollably.

"Dammit, Rude," Reno moaned from the chair he was tied to. "Remember when I said all that stuff about being a Turk and enjoying it even through the bad times? Well I still mean it…Even now. Three cheers to good times!"

Rude was too busy staring at his binds and the chair that was seated next to Reno's to be cheerful. Then he gazed at the black fishnet shirt with a blue jean vest, accompanied by black leather assless pants. His glasses were gone, and he didn't much enjoy the bandana looped around his head.

Reno was about as worse off. Well…that's only if he didn't mind a button down with palm trees on it. At least the redhead had gotten a snazzy looking belt with "sexy" written on it. Rude couldn't complain about that. But gold was definitely not Reno's color. The glittery gold pants just _had_ to go.

The large set of beads around his neck weren't any better.

Rude looked across the way where Tifa, Reeve, and the one he thought named "Barret" were sitting on a comfy red couch. To his left was a man in a large wheelchair that looked as though it could fit two in it. He was dressed in all white with a sheet over his head.

"M-Mr. President!?" Rude choked.

Rufus Allen Shinra said nothing, which concerned Rude. Then the Turk saw why.

If there was any need for a self-insertion Mary Sue, now would be the time, he thought. There was a blonde crawling up the arm of the wheelchair, arms slithering over the side of it, until she finally sat herself beside him.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.

Rufus said nothing.

"Good, good." Then the girl faked a yawn, placing an arm over the back end of the wheelchair.

Still, Rufus said nothing.

She removed her arm from around the back of the wheelchair and set her hands in her lap.

"Can I put my hand here…?" her fingers were twitching, "OR HERE!?"

"GAAAAH!"

Rude couldn't see what was going on after that. The only thing he knew was that the President was screaming and the blonde was on top of him, attacking Rufus. His sheet was torn from his head and so was part of his coat. "No one can resist my **charm!**" she gloated as he struggled to get away. Once that failed, the blonde easily overpowered him.

"LET'S MAKE LOVE!" she cried and Rude quickly turned away.

The Don was standing over him.

"Kinky, isn't it?" he asked, licking his lips. "I'd figure he'd like that. She begged me for a part here, and how could I refuse?"

"Jus' cuz' I think the President of Shinra deserves this dun make it right!" Barret argued. "Dat's just **crazy!**"

"Oh?" the Don wandered over to him, rubbing a hand along the burly man's cheek. "Would you rather I gave **you** some attention first?"

"Get yo' hand offa me, Foo'!"

"Better do what the big man tells ya," Reno interrupted. The Don turned around.

"Mmmm, the Turks…" Don Corneo seemed pleased. Rude sank further back into his chair, afraid of the snaky smile. "I'll bet you're wondering how I survived that fall from Wutai, aren't you?"

Reno's boldness quickly vanished. "I…uh…"

"What was the last thing you said to me?" the perverted ex-mayor of Sector 6 tapped a finger against his chin and looked to the ceiling. "Ah, yes! I remember now." Arms on Reno's shoulders, he leaned forward so that he was evenly face to face with the Turk. "It's your _job,_ right? Well, it's my job to get **down,** baby! Right down your pants!"

"**Aaaaaaaah!** Quit it! Quit it, I say!" The chair toppled over, taking Reno, the Don, and all.

Rude _would've _helped Reno escape the Don's clutches…

…but he was in the same predicament, too.

\/\/\/

Cloud heard it _all._ So, it was the _Don_ who was behind all of this! Who **knew** that the man had still survived and was now living underneath the Gold Saucer! The blonde ex-mercenary wasn't sure who all had been captured, but Cloud was bound and determined to right the wrong.

"My chance to be a **hero!**"

Running back inside of the hotel, Cloud stole Mr. Hangman's rope, despite the angry protests coming from the dead man, and dashed back outside. He tied one end around the tombstone leading to the Don's lair and the other around his waist. Kicking the tombstone, Cloud was flown in, arms outstretched as though he were flying. He swung through the air, laughing with heroism, and saw the Don's pale face as he approached all of them.

**Now** was the time to right all the wrongs and **prove** to everyone that he was his **own** person and not just a spoof off of his best friend, Zack.

And with all that positive thinking, he hadn't even seen the wall coming. The sharp pain that followed after quickly subsided over the bruising of his ego. There was a moment of silence, congratulating his failure, before the Don peeled him off of the wall.

\/\/\/

Cid followed Shera and Bradshaw to the Chocobo races. Much to his surprise, both had recovered rather well after the play incident, as though none of it had ever happened. The rich man was talking about Chocobos and how he was a connoisseur of the races.

"I've never lost a bet once," he bragged. "Here, I'll win something for you."

"Bradley," Shera flushed, "they all look so expensive…"

"Nonsense!" He wandered over to the booth with Shera behind him, straightened his tie, and gazed at the receptionist with pride. "I would like to make a bet on the next race, please."

"Which class?"

"S class, of course," he smiled. The lady nodded.

"And your bet?"

"S class!?" Shera gaped. "That's…that's so _extreme!_"

Cid waited in the shadows of the room, silently agreeing.

"No matter," Bradley replied, glancing at all of the participating birds. "I think…I will place my money on 3-5." He shared another smile, "The prize is a Megalixir if we win."

"That's…that's so…!"

"Perfect," the rich man finished Shera's sentence. "It's very perfect. It's the least I can do for you coming with me on this fantastic trip."

"But…Bradley…It's _your_ money. I wouldn't feel right about taking it."

He chuckled and drew her into a hug. "Let's just say that I want to make up for all the lost years between us."

There was a trail of smoke Cid left behind as he stormed up to a woman on the other side of the room with heavy make-up on her face, as though she had just come from a circus.

"Ester! I want you to register a Chocobo fer me!" the pilot demanded, causing the older woman to shrink back a bit in surprise.

"M-Mr. Highwind, was it? I've seen you with Cloud a few times."

"That's right," Cid whistled. "So you _do_ remember me. I want you to register one of his Chocobos and let me ride it."

She looked at him in disbelief. It was almost as though she was thinking what a stupid idiot he was for even _asking_ for something like that. Of _course_ he couldn't just take Cloud's Chocobo without asking and use it!

"…What?" he asked, blinking. "Somethin' on my face?"

"Mr. Highwind…" the words came out slowly, hesitant about arguing with him. "You don't have a registered account here."

"Yeah, I know…"

"And Cloud's Chocobos belong solely to _him._"

"I know that, woman! I wasn't born yesterday!"

"Well…" her eyes read _'so you know what that means, right? You can't ride them.'_ Cid wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

"Dammit! You **gotta** let me on a Chocobo! You've seen me ride before, Ester! You know that Cloud'd give me permission if he was 'ere right now!"

"Mr. Highwind, rules **are** rules."

The pilot wanted to stab himself with his spear. This woman was _unreasonable!_

"Fuck the rules! I want on a Chocobo!" He stopped himself to see her stagger back into her corner. Snapping his mouth shut, he scratched his head. "Lissen, Ester, sorry 'bout screaming. I just…I need to ride one is all. Something important is hanging on the balance of this."

Once he was certain that her fear had subsided, he forced himself to smile. She returned it, but it was much wider than his.

"Aww! Mr. Highwind, why didn't you just **say** it was for love?" She clapped her hands together like a little girl. He frowned.

"W-What? Love? No, woman, that ain't what it's fer!"

Ester didn't seem to hear anything else he was saying. She was caught up in her own little world of an illusionary love that was false. Cid grunted in dismay as she turned to register him, babbling on about her first love and how childhood crushes were the most adorable thing she had ever seen. When she had her back turned to him, he pretended to gag with a finger stuck down his throat, and then quickly stood up straight when she looked back to him.

"So, who is she, Mr. Highwind?"

He wanted to deny any such relations to this woman, but he saw the pen and paper in her hand and quickly thought better of it.

"Uh…my secretary," he lied. "I promised that while I was 'ere in Gold Saucer, I'd compete in the Chocobo Races."

"How cute!" she chirped again.

He cleared his throat, "But it's gotta be in this race."

"This race?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"That's right. _This_ one."

"But, Mr. Highwind, the race starts in three minutes. You won't have enough time to prepare a Chocobo and change into a jockey's attire before then."

"I gotta!" he cried. "It has ta be **now!**"

She bit her lip, but saw the desperate look in his eyes. He tried his hardest to win over her sympathy, and thanked the stars she was an older lady—or just the fact that she was a **lady.** _Emotional dingbat._

"All right, Mr. Highwind, but you'd better hurry to the back. The race isn't going to wait for _you,_ you know…"

"Thank you, Ester!" he grabbed her hand, shook it, and quickly dashed off into the back.

While his Chocobo was being prepared, the pilot was handed a black jockey uniform, and he was relieved that he had _some_ form of disguise in front of Shera and rich man Buttley. He smirked and wrenched his goggles down around his eyes, smirk becoming a full-fledged grin. Pulling down on his gloves to remove any loose space from within, he turned at the sound of the bell being alarmed.

"Mr. Highwind," Ester stepped into the room.

"'Sup?" he asked. "My Chocobo ready?"

"We…we have a problem," she announced, biting her nails.

"…What would that be?"

"Well…" She cleared her throat, "You registered for the Class S races, right?" At his nod, she continued, "Cloud doesn't have anything above C Class."

"WHAT!?"

"I'm…I'm sorry, Mr. Highwind, but regulation clearly states that…"

Damn that Cloud and his no brain spiky self! After all that bragging that he had done about breeding the legendary Gold Chocobo, Cid should've **known** it had been a lie when no one had been privileged to see it. The pilot swore to kick Cloud in the nuts when this was all over.

"I don't give a **damn** 'bout the rules!" Cid shouted. "I'm gonna compete in this race with a Class C Chocobo or my name ain't Cid Highwind!"

"B-But Mr. Highwind!"

He brushed past her, grunting. "I'm racin' and that's that!"

"Mr. Highwind!" she called after him, hand outstretched to grab him.

But he was already out the door.

\/\/\/

_Cocoa…Why the bloody hell did he have to name the Chocobo __**Cocoa!?**__ Sounds so damn stupid._

Cid was gripping the reins of the Chocobo much more fiercely, knowing that the very **balance** of this race determined Bradley's win. _And I dun care if it's a C Class Chocobo or a dead one. I'm gonna beat all these punks even it if __**kills**__ me._

He looked around at all of the other jockeys. Most were cocky and stupid in Cid's view. Some were still pampering themselves or their Chocobos, using mirrors to tidy up any unwanted lint on their uniforms or the feathers of the birds. The pilot scoffed. One even had a comb handy, brushing his hair before the race. The Chocobos were squawking in anticipation, ready to win a victory.

Except Cid's. The Chocobo was poor and acted as though it were already dead…or defeated. Not that the Chocobo itself was _bad._ It was just inexperienced. A great C Class Chocobo, really…or at least Cid thought it was a great Chocobo. Not a **great** Chocobo, but a _great_ Chocobo caught near the plains of Rocket Town… _Wait, why do I even __**care**__ what kind of Chocobo it is!? It ain't gonna help me win the race any easier!_ So maybe it _was_ a great Chocobo. He wasn't really sure anymore after the bombing of a huge lie from Cloud hit him. He made a mental note to make Cloud pay _dearly_ for it.

Cid knew something about riding Chocobos. Hell, he had ridden them more times than Cloud had when they visited Gold Saucer. There was something different about riding them than, say, flying the skies…not that he'd _ever_ give that up for _anything._ He thanked his adequate experience now, and felt his palms become sweaty from within the leather of his gloves.

Then there was Dragonmaster Joe. He had given himself the title after winning over one hundred races. The name seemed strange to Cid, and the pilot thought it would've been better to have named himself Chocobomaster Joe instead. But, hey, whatever floated his boat. The man was brutal. And he was in this race. Cid cursed himself for not having seen him sooner. If there was _any_ obvious way the foulmouthed man could lose, it would be because of Joe.

The master Chocobo racer sat on the far end of the line, giving a smug grin and tipping his black and yellow hat back presumptuously. Joe straightened his bright red jacket and looked over his white pants to make sure they were clean…as always. It made Cid gag. _All of 'em. They're so damn arrogant. …Sounds kind of like me then? I should fit right in…_ Then he shook his head angrily. _What the hell am I __**thinkin'!?**__ I'm in this race to keep another man from winnin'! This don't have __**nothin'**__ to do with being better than these numbskulls!_ He leaned forward, rear in the air, and readied himself for the countdown. _I ain't gonna let Joe intimidate me. He's no better than the rest of 'em. Even if this __**is**__ the long course, I'll make the Chocobo hold out._

The long course…With a C Class Chocobo going against S Classes, Cid had immediately wanted to race in the short run. When he had found out that Bradley wanted to show off exactly _how_ precise his betting expertise was, the pilot could feel the morning's hangover begin all over again. There was the sound of the blender, Cloud's poison, the thought of thirteen drinks the night before, and then the unremitting vomiting.

"Go!" The gun was fired and the Chocobos warked a bit in fright, dashing ahead.

It wasn't long before Cid found himself competing for last place. _Well ain't that a way to put it. But I'm not gonna be last for long._

"C'mon ya freakin' Chocobo!" Cid shouted at the bird, kicking at its sides. Cocoa warked and sprinted forward. Cid edged the Chocobo to the inner track of the farm-like scenery, cutting off three of the riders.

"Hey!" he could hear them shout, and the pilot chuckled a bit before turning around to show off his middle finger.

Cocoa was still sprinting when it had passed Joe and Cid gave him a privileged glance as he went by. Teioh, Joe's Chocobo, was trotting along, not minding that others had gained the place ahead of her. It made the pilot nervous. He had competed in races with Teioh and Joe before—most in which Joe won—and knew the jockey's tactics. He waited until everyone else had worn their birds down beyond the state of winning before using Teioh's incredible speed to sprint to the finish line.

Cid _hated_ Joe.

_If I lose now, it'll be all over!_ The Captain found himself in first before he came across the winding bridge, but Cocoa's condition was weakening. _This bird's sprint is their run! Damn you Cloud! How embarrassing is __**that!?**_ "C'mon Cocoa," Cid forced an encouragement and stroked the bird's neck. "We gotta win this race."

"Yoo-hoo!" The pilot turned to see Joe riding alongside him, nearly knocking Cocoa and its jockey off of the track. "You don't _really_ think you can win with such a terrible bird, right? That's just foolish."

Cid frowned. "Da hell would **you **know 'bout—"

Joe kicked the pilot's Chocobo in the side, causing the injured bird to crash into the side of the rope that held the bridge together as Dragonmaster Joe laughed and continued through the waterfall and into the oceanic cave. Cid was on the ground for a moment, several Chocobos quickly catching up behind him. He looked over the side to see a thirty to forty foot straight drop, haziness overtaking the sky.

"That son of a…" he quit as he heard a passing jockey shout "HA HA!" and Cid was back on his feet in a hurry. "Cheatin' prick!" He looked to the dazed Chocobo, who was favoring its side with its long tongue. "Are we gonna just **take** that, Cocoa!?"

The bird stared at him, blinking, and Cid felt foolish for trying to have a conversation with a bird that didn't have a **clue** as to what he was saying. He glanced back to the track where all of the other jockeys had passed him earlier. The pilot felt discouraged. _Damn it all! That filthy cheater!_

He was distracted by a soft coo and he turned his attention back to Cocoa, who had lowered itself to Cid's level, allowing him upon the Chocobo's back.

"Well I'll be damned," Cid laughed. "He really **does** understand what I'm sayin'! All right, Cocoa! Let's win this race and kick Joe out of the game!" He mounted the Chocobo again, dusting off his uniform, and gave the bird a gentle kick, accompanied with a "Hyah!"

Cocoa warked and plunged into the waterfall, forcing itself across the track without slowing. Cid held a hand over his face and held his breath. He watched a shark swim by above them. _I don't even see where the rest of 'em punks went. Cocoa, you'd better make a speedy recovery if we wanna win…_

Even so, Cid was proud of the bird. It wasn't meant to go against hard types like these and _still_ Cid had forced it into such a situation. He felt guilty, but the bird seemed determined to win for the both of them. Its legs were being pushed harder against the current of the water, and the pilot tapped Cocoa on its side to encourage it to go faster.

The blonde man wasn't sure how much more the bird could endure, but his hopes slowly began to rise again once Cocoa made a big splash from the other side and continued up the steep track, still sprinting.

"Go easy on yerself, Cocoa," Cid told the bird. "We gotta have enough strength left to make it to the finish line."

The bird warked again, as though it understood, but it didn't slow its pace. Cid was nervous, but it was all lost once he saw the tail end of another Chocobo as he came around the corner and up onto the bridge.

"You bastards!" the Captain called out as Cocoa closed in. The pilot withdrew a cigarette, carefully lit it so that the wind wouldn't bounce the flame, and took a puff before reaching over and jabbing one Chocobo in the butt with it.

He laughed without an ounce of remorse when the bird squawked and jumped to the side, tumbling onto two other Chocobos and toppling them out of the race. Cid looked back to see the crumpled heap, eyes bright with mischievous thinking. By this time, Cocoa had slowed a bit, but there was still plenty of time to catch up to everyone else.

As he rounded the next corner, fire torches alit and acting as a railing on both sides, and continued into the cave, Cid saw the last opponent in his way aside from Dragonmaster Joe.

"Heh heh…" the foulmouthed blonde nudged Cocoa off to one side, plucked one of the torches from the ground, and tapped the Chocobo to go a bit faster. "I know yer tired, Cocoa, but jus' a little further and we've got this thing in the bag!"

"Wark!" Cocoa lowered its head, pushing itself to immense speed. Cid leaned over the bird's head as they neared the next Chocobo and began to swing the giant flame stick into the face of the racer.

"Dear Lord!" the jockey cried, swerving off to the left with an abrupt jerk, and the pilot urged Cocoa to keep going after the poor rider.

"I'm _gettin'_ that prize!" Cid vowed as he continued to torment the man with the fire torch. Screaming, the rider wasn't prepared for the sudden bright lights and the large scale models of several pyramids until after he had collided with them, Chocobo and master crashing off of the track.

There was a loud eruption of destruction followed by despair and sacrilege towards the hanging props, and Cid could imagine the fatality that was put into his devious act. As he passed the model buildings sticking sideways from the wall above him, he heard a long whistle and smiled.

"Cocoa, that's our last man! We gotta get 'im back for messin' with us! Ya with me!?"

The bird squawked and pushed its trot again. The Captain looked ahead to the flaming bridge with leaping dragons and could feel the sweat pouring from each side of his head. _This is it. Joe's about ta cross the finish line and I'm gonna lose this race! How can I stop him? __**How!?**_

Joe was up ahead, guffawing like he had won the Nobel Prize. Cocoa was tired, and the poor bird's head had begun to droop. Cid felt even guiltier. _If I don't win this, then I pushed this poor bird all fer nothin'! It wouldn't be right…_ Patting the Chocobo's head, he said, "You've done all ya could for us, Cocoa. Now it's my turn to finish the rest of it."

Dragonmaster Joe was hugging the icy corner, dancing penguins welcoming his victory.

"Kiss my ass!" Cid sat up as best he could on the Chocobo, putting his lit cigarette into his mouth and pulling a set of red sticks from his back pocket. "I knew this would come in handy for a cheater like you!" Lighting the stick of dynamite with his cigarette, the foulmouthed blonde watched it ignite with a blazing glory. He jerked his arm back and sent the explosive soaring through the air at incredible speed.

Joe looked back at the sound of the pilot's angry voice, Teioh slowing slightly, and watched as a red blur came twirling in his direction. He had been just moments away from exiting the ice cave and blazing a path to victory by the time the dynamite exploded into the wall of the cavern, hurling Joe and his precious Chocobo into the far back, trampling over the small penguins. The ground shook vehemently, the very earth torn asunder. Then there was the long stream of fire, the intensifying heat, and the blinding light. Altogether the sight was more spectacular than any of Dio's fireworks…at least Cid thought so.

The pilot slowed his bird down a bit until the blast had subsided, though the Chocobo seemed less than frightened. It was strange, really. But, then again, the birds _were_ pretty damn smart. At least _this_ one was. And it hadn't been scared at all by the blast. Well, not that the Captain had been nervous. The dynamite **was** his, after all. It wasn't like he hadn't thrown it at other punks time and time again. He wondered if his thoughts were coming along on account of the fact that he had just cheated his whole way through the race and that he was more than likely going to get chewed out by Ester, Dio, and all of the other chumps of Gold Saucer.

"Wark!" Cocoa trotted by, ignoring the explosion and the aftermath of tumbling icicles and tremors. Cid slapped his rump in Joe's direction as he went by, giving a "HA!" along the way. Joe's legs were sticking straight up in the snow bank, and Teioh was nowhere to be seen as a ring of fire surrounded the snow hills.

"And here come our winners!" the announcer called out as Cid and Cocoa made a final sprint to the finish line, as though everything the audience had just seen didn't bothered them at all.

\/\/\/

Lol…how anticlimactic. But I hate Joe. Every time I'd race against him with Cid, I always imagined the dynamite attack. Oh well. Go Cocoa. Please RnR (don't flame me. I already KNOW that this story is on crack…or meth…or something like that.) and I hope you liked it!

ML


	6. All Coming To a Pretty Peak

**Disclaimer:** Don't own FFVII.

**\/\/\/**

**Chapter Six**

**All Coming To a Pretty Peak**

**\/\/\/**

"Thassa good boy, Cocoa," Cid was rubbing the side of the bird's face as he pulled him into the stable in the back. "We won 'cuz of you." _And no one said a word about anything that happened. Well…they probably didn't see all the other crap I pulled along the way because of the caves and bright lights and stuff, but they should've at __**least**__ said something 'bout Joe…_

"Hey!"

Cid spun around to see the five angry jockeys he had just raced with minutes before. Several were bandaged and others were bruised black and blue.

"'Sup fellas?" the Captain whistled as he held the same cigarette he had used to cheat with in the race between his fingers. He put it to his mouth, took a drag off of it, and held it pursed in between his lips.

"How the hell could **you** win!? You cheated!" one of them shouted. Cid recognized him as the one who owned the Chocobo he had jabbed his cigarette with.

The pilot shrugged. "Ya can't prove nuthin'. Guess the judges were just too impressed that a C Class Chocobo kicked all the asses of yer S Classes."

"You son of a—"

"He's mine."

Everyone, including Cid, turned to see Dragonmaster Joe, looking _very_ much annihilated with cuts and dried blood on his face. A pant leg was blown off entirely, probably from the explosion the foulmouthed blonde figured, while holes decorated his jacket and shirt like Swiss cheese. One side of his hat was completely missing.

"Can I help you?" Cid joked, hanging his head back.

Joe was silent for a minute, and the other racers stepped out of his way, nervous. The Captain wasn't scared. He won and that was all that mattered. Maybe it hadn't been the most _honorable_ way, but he _had_ won, nonetheless, and it wasn't like anyone could prove anything. The pilot stared at Joe, who was just slightly taller than he, without any care for what the other man was thinking. Then he saw a slow fist clench and Joe's face darkened.

"Teioh's **DEAD!**"

"Ain't that a shame…?" Cid took another puff from his cigarette. "My sympathies."

There was a sudden intake of breath and everyone watched as Joe stormed up to the pilot, grabbed him by the jacket, and pulled Cid up from off the ground. He plucked the cigarette from Cid's mouth and tossed it away. Another jockey jogged over to it and stomped it out before it could start a fire.

"You little _shit!_ I should rip your face off!"

"Then **do** it!" the blonde pilot urged. "What's stoppin' ya!?"

"Why I outta…!" Joe reeled back his arm, eyes ablaze, and aimed to strike Cid.

"Wark!" Cocoa struck from behind, leaping out of its pen and began to peck at the Chocobo master with utmost hatred.

Joe screamed as he dropped Cid to the ground and shielded his face, stepping backwards. The room was filled with feathers as Cocoa quickly ruffled its wings in rage. Cid watched, awestricken, as were all of the other jockeys, when Cocoa lifted Joe up with his shirt in its beak and tossed him across the room.

There was silence after the Chocobo master hit the wall and slumped. No one knew if he was alive or dead. And people were too scared to ask.

Cid pushed himself to his feet, swallowing his anxiety. What had just happened? Had Cocoa really… _…saved me? Damn, what an awesome bird._

"K-Kill it…" came a hoarse voice from a crippled Dragonmaster Joe across the room. He struggled to point a ghastly finger at it. "Kill that bird!"

Everyone looked at each other, swinging on the decision of following Joe's orders or staying out of it. When the jockeys took too long to decide, he used the wall behind him to stand up, knees knocking.

"Why aren't you **listening** to me!?" he spat, regaining his composure. "Are you all deaf!? It almost **murdered** me!" When no one made a move towards Cid and Cocoa, Joe marched over to it, picking up a whip from the corner of the room that was used for professional jockey tournaments along the way.

He stretched the whip with his other hand, and cracked it against the floor. Cocoa raised its head, nervous, and shuffled backwards. Joe growled and shared his white teeth as he advanced towards the Chocobo.

Cid came up from behind, quicker and madder than any one person had ever seen him. His arm was already in the air and he sent a solid punch squarely into Joe's face. The jockey champion was sent back again, but he didn't bother to get up this time. The pilot, whose face was red with a pulsating vein running down his neck, towered over him, rubbing the fist he had slugged Joe with.

"You are a sorry excuse for a **man,** ya know that? Someone who cheats in the races shouldn't even have the title of a 'Chocobo Jockey!' And beating Chocobos with whips? That's inexcusable, even for a lowlife like you! How the hell did **you** ever make it into this sort of profession!?"

Joe's nose was bleeding and probably broken. He was breathing heavily and struggled to look up at Cid. "Y…You're one to talk. What do you call what you did out on the racetrack!?"

"Don't be trying to turn the tables on me!" Cid shouted. "You cheated first and that's all there is to it!"

Everyone was whispering amongst themselves, but the pilot ignored it. He was still fuming and the thought of this man laying a whip against a poor, defenseless Chocobo was enough to make him even angrier.

"You're a man with no logic," Joe argued. "Is **that** how you get out of all of your problems? By turning them on people? You probably use the same excuses on your girlfriends. I wouldn't be surprised if _that's_ the reason that you're such a loser."

It would not have been a surprise if Sephiroth himself had cowered in a corner after the long string of curses had escaped the Captain's mouth. By the time everyone had realized what Joe said, Cid was already down on top of him, laying blows in the man's face. His remark had obviously hit the pilot **hard** else Cid would not have cared. To what the foulmouthed man had been thinking at that moment, only his subconscious knew.

All of the other men, four of them to be precise and even Cocoa helped a little, had to restrain Cid from causing further harm. They shouted "stop" and other synonyms to the word "halt," and it took a moment for the Captain to regain himself. Joe was clutching his face, lips bleeding and his nose an absolute mess.

The other jockeys had seemingly forgotten their anger towards the foulmouthed blonde, patting him on the back in both praise and to calm him. The pilot was still seething, his teeth grinding together, and when he found that he could speak more words than just the notorious F-word, he pointed a stern finger to Joe and spat, "All right, so maybe what I did out there was no better than you, but I've **seen** you cheat before, Joe! I've seen you run men—good men!—off the tracks in your stupid want for winnin'! I've seen those men come outta the race with broken arms and spirits! They say yer the best they've ever seen, but I'd say yer just a damn liar!"

Joe was staring at him with one open eye, his hands still covering the rest of his face.

"A man who don't care 'bout nuthin' but winnin' ain't really a man at all!" There was a sudden release of tension from the Captain's chest. He realized it.

Realized _why_ what Joe had said made him so angry.

_Here I've been trying to get one over on that Bradshaw guy, trying to prove that I was better than him by hurting other people in the process. I had tried to lie in Costa Del Sol, injure innocent people in the Gold Saucer, and I hadn't thought of the reason __**why**__ I was doing it until now._ He exhaled. _I don't wanna lose Shera…_

Cheating and lying had done nothing but hurt everyone else, and Shera was _still_ with Bradley. He had treated Shera like garbage for years and now that she was with someone else, it made him even angrier. Joe cheating to win was just like Cid cheating to win. There **was** no difference.

The pilot straightened his back, the rage leaving his face.

"I hope yer prepared for everyone else who ain't gonna put up with yer crap, Joe. 'Cuz I ain't the only one who'd be willing to kick yer ass. I don't doubt that those judges saw me cheat to high heaven in that race, but why do you think that they didn't disqualify me?" Cid didn't even pause long enough for him to speak before he continued, "It's because no one likes you. They _wanted_ ta see ya lose. An' ya know why? It's because you **are** a loser."

When he turned to walk off, Cocoa behind him, Cid Highwind received the most voluminous and hearty round of applause that he had ever gotten since he was a child.

\/\/\/

"C'mere little boy," the Don leaned down in front of Cloud, waving something in the former mercenary's face. "I've got candy…"

Cloud was dressed in the same pair of purple Speedos he had been wearing back in Costa Del Sol. And he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Where did you get these!?" he cried.

"I found 'em in your back pocket," Don Corneo laughed.

"Mr. Don…Sir…" Barret held out his hands. "My wrists hurt."

"That won't be the **only** thing hurtin' in a minute!" the sex fiend walked around the room, eyeing all of his bride captures. Reno was trying hard not to pass out in order to protect his manly pride and Rude was in the same state. Rufus…well…no one had seen Rufus since the blonde had carried him away, and Reeve was sitting on the couch next to Tifa with a very unhappy look pasted on his face. Tifa, on the other hand, was more angry at Cloud for screwing things up than anything, and Barret was whimpering—a **very **uncharacteristic trait for the burly man to do.

"Cloud," Tifa hissed, nudging the near nude man, "_Do_ something!"

"All right, all right," he agreed. When he thought of something, he cleared his throat, "Don! This is a disgrace! I _demand_ that you untie us this _instant!_"

When the Don wandered over to him again with a scary smile on his face, Cloud immediately regretted his course of action.

"…You gonna get **raped** m'boy…" he said in a deep, low voice. Cloud screamed and kicked his feet.

"Get away! Get away!"

"Mmm…yer a cheery one. I think I'll have to make a choice now before the goods get spoiled. Who wants to be the first to take a whack at the Don?"

There was a pregnant pause and everyone looked at one another, pale and uncomfortable.

"That'll be me, Don. I'm gonna take a **big** whack out of you."

The voice was unfamiliar in the kidnapped group, but **very** familiar to the whole.

"I see we have a taker!" the Don spun around. Everyone else gaped, their jaws going slack.

Vincent Valentine was standing in the middle of the room, arms at his side and looking as nonchalant as ever. Still, Cloud could not mistake the red glare in the man's eyes.

The Don's face had apparently changed as well, and he did not look excited anymore. "What? Who are you!?"

"I've been watching you since you brought Tifa back here," Vincent explained. "Now I think the time has come for me to release my comrades."

"I'd like to see you **try!**" the Don snorted. "Spoony Vampire!"

Vincent winced at the name, but did not comment on it. "Well, here I am, Don. Come and get me."

"Don't mind if I do!" the man giggled (Wait, _giggled!?_) and moved towards Vincent, grabbing a spear from off of the wall next to him. "I love hunting for my prey, Mmmhmm!" Swinging the spear at Vincent, the Don lunged forward as best as his short, fat body would, but the other man easily dodged.

Withdrawing his Death Penalty from its holster, Vincent shot at the outstretched spear, breaking it into two pieces.

"Hey!"

"The spear is **dead,** Don. There won't **be** anymore stars for you."

"No more stars!?"

"I don't have time to mess with you, so let's make this short," the red cloaked man said in an even voice.

"Whaaaat!? But I don't **like** it short!"

Twisting his metal arm, Vincent brought it crashing down upon the Don's head.

The former mayor of Sector 6 and perverted perpetrator crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap and Vincent held his head up.

"A man who likes to talk but has no battle mentality. What a waste of my time." The former Turk member stooped down to pick up the broken spear and walked over to Cloud. Using the sharp, metal head of the spear, he cut loose the bonds on his legs and chest. Then he moved to the ankles and, finally, the wrists.

"Get some clothes on, Cloud," Vincent ordered and then began to work on Tifa's binds.

Cloud flushed. "Uh…right. Thanks Vincent." He quirked an eyebrow, "What made you decide to come to the Gold Saucer? Surely you hadn't known that the Don was alive…?"

"I didn't," the other man confessed, watching a now free Tifa rise to her feet. "I came here on a different agenda." Barret volunteered to be released next.

"Well, you really came at a good time," the martial artist said. "No thanks to Cloud."

"Well ex-CUSE me!" the blonde man shouted, placing his hands on his bare hips.

"Gah, Cloud! Put on some clothes whydoncha!?" Barret closed his eyes and turned away, disgusted.

Tifa found the pocket knife the Don had taken from her when he had first brought her to his chambers underneath the bed. She used it to untie Reeve while Vincent stood up, looking at Reno and Rude, who stared back at them with a face that read _"well? Aren't you going to untie us?"_

"I don't know…" Cloud rubbed his chin. "I'm not sure if we **should** untie them. They _have_ caused us nothing but trouble."

"Damn you to hell!" Reno spat, leaning forward in his chair. "You!" he gestured to Vincent. "Untie us would ya? We're just as much scarred as you guys are!"

"I dun think so…" Barret agreed with Cloud, enjoying the fact that his archenemies were in a position of desperation and a great need of help. Not to mention, for once, they were on the bitter, cold end of the rope.

Reno gaped and looked frantically to Reeve. "R-Reeve!" he beseeched. "Don't be a chump! Untie us!"

"Reno," Reeve cocked his head to one side. "What happened to the cool and collected Turk I used to know?"

"I'm drunk and can't recognize my hand from my Grandmother! I can barely stand on my feet and when that fat sack of turd wakes up, he won't think _twice_ 'bout having his way with us!"

It was enough to make everyone, save Vincent, Reno, and Rude, chuckle. Tifa knelt down in front of Rude whilst Vincent tended to Reno's binds.

"You know we were just kidding with you," Reeve shrugged.

Reno did not look amused.

Rude was flustered.

"You look like a pretty princess, too," the redhead's eyes narrowed. "…Asshole."

As soon as the ropes on everyone had been cut loose, a now sober Reno and Rude went to search for the "magicked away" President Rufus Allen Shinra. Vincent, himself, was in a hurry to leave.

"W-Wait," Cloud called out. "What's going on, Vincent? What are you doing here anyway? I mean…I don't mean to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but…"

"I can't explain right now," the red cloaked man said, rushing from the room. "If you want to know, change into something more appropriate and meet me upstairs."

"V-Vincent!" Tifa tried to stop him, but the mysterious man was already gone.

\/\/\/

Yuffie and Red were at a standstill. They had searched everywhere for Shera and her boyfriend, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Maybe they left," Yuffie suggested.

"I doubt that," Red said. "And Cloud hasn't called us either. I wonder if he's found them…"

"And left us hanging? I don't think so." Yuffie leaned back and sighed. She was caught off guard from behind when someone bumped into her and knocked her to the ground. "HEY!" she shouted.

"Sorry!" the man called back. Yuffie recognized him as a Gold Saucer employee—a security guard at that. "There's been a breakout at the Chocobo Races!"

"What!?" Yuffie and Red cried in unison. They turned to look at each other and Red groaned.

"I'll bet it's Cid. Let's just hope he hasn't done something illegal."

Yuffie's eyes widened and she followed after the man to the races.


	7. Vincent Takes a Stand

**Disclaimer: **You know what? NO. That's what.

**A/N:** This chapter was probably the hardest chapter to write in this whole story, and not because it's the most serious one either. Please let me know how I did, and be kind :-D And, of course, RnR!

Oh, and he03, you just MAY get your wish…Heh, heh…

**\/\/\/**

**Chapter Seven**

**Vincent Takes A Stand**

**\/\/\/**

"I **can't **believe I lost a race!" Bradley stared at the screen for quite some time. "I **never** lose races!"

"It's all right, Bradley…" Shera patted him on the back. "We've just been having an off day. Let's go and get some dinner, all right? It's getting late anyway…"

"But…But Shera…!" the dark haired man turned to her, clasping her hand in his. "I…I really wanted to do something for you. I'm grateful for you coming with me…"

"It's all right," she offered him another of her treasured smiles. "I'm already happy being with you."

The man smiled back and was just about to speak when a shorter man with glasses and a receding hairline poked him from behind. "Mr. Bradley Richton?"

Bradley and Shera both turned to look at him. "Yes?" he answered.

"Your order has arrived. Will you come to pick it up?"

Bradley's eyes widened and Shera seemed concerned.

"What's he talking about, Bradley?" she asked.

The rich man glanced back to her with a big smile, and put his hands on her shoulders. "I have the **perfect** gift for you, Shera! I know you'll like it!" He made a sudden move to follow the man, but shook a finger and said, "Wait right here, all right? I'll be back."

There was another one of those blasted smiles on her face. Another one as she watched Bradley hurriedly climb the stairs and disappear from her watching view. Another one as he was going to get her a ring and tear her from him for good.

Cid Highwind stood in the shadows, hands clenched, and he could feel Ester's stare from behind. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was march over there, grab Shera, and tell her what a terrible mistake she was making. He wanted to yell at her, and scream at her, and cry out that she was such a terrible and selfish person for carrying on a relationship with the man, and hadn't given a second _thought_ to it! She hadn't given a second thought to the fact that _maybe_ he wanted to apologize and that _maybe_ he wanted to discuss things and that _maybe…_

"_Well…__**do**__ you mind if she moves out?"_

_"Hell no! What? Do I hafta repeat myself?"_

"_Okay, and if she found another guy?"_

"_Good riddance! Maybe I can get things done sooner then!"_

To hell with _maybe._

"Shut up," he whispered harshly to himself. "Just shut the hell up. This ain't my fault. She was carrying on **long** before I said any of that."

"That must be the _'ring'_ he's talking about." Cid turned his head and saw Yuffie and Red standing in the entranceway of the racing hall. They, too, were watching Shera. The pilot wasn't sure how much they had overheard, but from the sound of it, it was enough.

Something must've caught the ninja girl's eye because she looked to meet the Captain's stare and gave a half smile to him. She quickly moved to his side, the red beast following beside her. "Hey, Old Man," she greeted.

He grunted.

"Cid," Red began, "why aren't you over there talking to her? Bradley's gone now."

"I…I…" Cid looked to her, mouth twitching. He wasn't _sure_ why.

"Yeah, Cid!" Yuffie encouraged. "You came here to talk to her, didn't you? Now's your chance!"

"Shut up!" he hissed at them. "I'm not over there right now because…" he was fidgeting, "…because…"

"Because you have no idea what you're going to say to her," Red finished. "_Do_ you, Cid? You have no clue."

"Jus' shut up!" he shouted. "Both of ya! That ain't it at all! I don't care if he's gonna buy her an engagement present or anything! I'm just standin' here and they happened to be here and—"

"Captain?"

No one moved.

The gig was up and Cid had been found out. Shera's curious gaze was upon him and he didn't know how to react to it—mainly because he was already having trouble dealing with the duo of dumbbells. He had no idea what he was going to say to Shera or what lame excuse he could offer. Cid didn't own a villa in Gold Saucer (nor had he in Costa Del Sol, anyway), and he _certainly_ couldn't pass off that he owned any part of the amusement park. He forced himself to turn away, but Red seemed as though he wasn't about to let up.

"_Talk_ to her, Cid. _Tell_ her why you're here."

"I…"

"C'mon Old Man!" Yuffie slapped him on the back, receiving a grunt in return. "Show her the side of big, buff ol' Highwind!"

He threw a dark glare at her, but Red's face was much more serious and intimidating. Cid thrust his hands into the pockets of his pants and sluggishly walked over to Shera.

_What the hell are ya doin' Highwind!? You came here fer a __**reason!**__ You gonna let these little feelings get ta ya? __**She**__ should be the one feeling nervous, not you! You didn't do nuthin' wrong! __**She's**__ the one who ran off with some rich guy and has been seeing him for God knows how long while you were out saving the bloody world! Is __**that**__ any way to repay you? You'd be __**stupid**__ to let her keep running this show! Put her in her damn place already!_

The thought made him angrier than he had been that entire day and he replaced his sluggish walks with a ferocious march that suddenly made Shera look frightened. His eyes were no longer droopy with anxiety, but fierce and lined with thick eyebrows that shot daggers and formed heavy shadows. His shoulders tensed, his hands balled, and he walked with the heels of his feet hitting the ground first, making a loud and powerful thud with each movement. Cid had forgotten everything he realized earlier in the Chocobo stables, and became the dark, dreaded Captain that Shera had come to know since the rocket disaster.

"Shera!" When he was only a few feet away from her, an angry scowl on his face, he let into her, "What the hell are ya doin' hanging 'round him like this!? Hugging on him and falling all over him! Are ya too damn blind ta see what a player he is!?"

Shera took a step backwards, mouth gaping. From behind, Cid could hear Yuffie and Red hissing at him. He ignored it.

"Ya think I wouldn't find out about this little relationship you got going on!?"

Shera looked sincerely confused. _Don't give into her! She's __**obviously**__ planned this all out with a whole twenty-page dialogue scene to cover up for it! Her mousey little eyes and her trembling lips…I won't fall for it!_

"What? No, Captain, that's not…"

No…He wasn't about to let her use any of her innocent placating on **him.**

"Don't **lie** to me, woman! I heard the two of ya talking on the Gondola 'bout how you thought I wouldn't find out! How you were gonna tell me when ya got back that you two were gonna run off together and expect it to be all right!" His face got right into hers, "Well it _**ain't!**_ I save the damn world and this is how you **repay** me! He's going right now to buy ya an engagement ring and you sure as hell had better say _'no'_ to him or else I'll—"

"A _what?_" Shera blinked, his words evidently becoming too much for her to bear.

_She can't keep up this charade forever. I'm gonna push her until she slips and finally tells the truth. And if she thinks that I'll just back away from this, she's got another thing comin'!_

"Ya heard me right!" he barked. "The little bastard is going to buy you an engagement ring! Propose to ya! Do I hafta repeat myself again!?"

"Captain, I don't think you know what you're talking abou—"

"Dammit, Shera!" he pounded his fist against his thigh, causing her to jump back. "This lying has **got **to stop! If you don't want to see me get more pissed off than I already am, you'd better tell me—"

"She doesn't need to tell you _anything,_ Cid."

The shouting stopped.

Cid's flaring anger left.

And now, everyone was staring, including Cloud and the whole gang of AVALANCHE. When _they_ had gotten there, he hadn't quite known. Nor had he the slightest inclination about what had drawn the rest of the crowd there. All he knew was that he and Shera were at one end, but they certainly were not the cynosure of everyone's attention.

The Captain turned to see Vincent Valentine standing in the center of the huge circle that had gathered and formed.

"She doesn't have to say a _word._" The other man stepped forward, looking Shera in the face. There was a look about him, something that made him seem more dangerous than ever, even though his face was as nonchalant as it usually was. Perhaps it was in the way he had spoken to Cid. Or perhaps it was in the way he was gazing at the female engineer now. Or, even worse, perhaps it was the guilt of a lie told to a friend from some days before. But whatever it was, all of those possibilities and _more_ made Vincent Valentine appear just as intimidating and dangerous than Meteor or Jenova had_ ever_ been.

The former Turk opened his mouth to speak, "Shera, a short time ago, before the defeat of Sephiroth, Cloud gave us a day off to find out what we were fighting for—what gave us a _purpose_ in our lives." He took a deep breath, and Cid wasn't prepared for what came next, "Barret went to see his daughter, Marlene, in Kalm. Red XII went to his hometown of Cosmo Canyon to see all of the people he loved so much there. Yuffie did the same in Wutai. Tifa and Cloud spent the evening together, talking about the days that had meant the most to them and how much the two of them meant to each _other._ I went to a place to pray for the woman I loved." Vincent turned to the pilot.

Cid winced.

"There were those who had once been against us, but realized what a beautiful world it was we lived in during that day off." Reeve cleared his throat in the background. "Everyone had found a reason worth fighting for—worth _dying_ for—and worth living for. There would be no point to pick up a sword or a spear to fight against the evils that threatened the very planet unless that individual found a purpose in his or her life. There was someone or something that they loved. There was their family and friends that they wanted to protect and give their lives for." The dark haired man paused, "Shera, that purpose for fighting…it's nice to _be_ that purpose for fighting, isn't it? To be the daughter of a man who is loved and feels safe, or to be an entire village where one warrior feels the need to pick up arms and fight to protect it. I think a love that strong is very important."

Then Vincent turned, his eyes on a very uncomfortable Captain. It wasn't long after that that the pilot could feel every stare upon him. "But what did Cid Highwind do?" The former Turk's eyes were dark and unpredictable, but there was an unmistaken glint of loathing in them. "Shera…did you _see_ Cid Highwind on that day?"

Shera, who was just as perplexed as everyone else, said nothing.

"I didn't think so," Vincent continued. "That's because Cid Highwind found his purpose for living at the bar at the other end of town. He found his purpose in every shot he took and every ounce of reality he chose to forsake. His purpose was to not _have_ a purpose." Vincent frowned. "And then he _lied_ for it." Now the former Turk was pacing, "I guess that's understandable. Cid _doesn't_ have a daughter or a son that he has to worry about. He doesn't have a wife, and, apparently, doesn't have any close friends. Those who worry about him, he's oblivious of their feelings. Those people aren't important. His home isn't important. The town in which he lives in isn't important." When he stopped pacing, his eyes were on Shera, "_You_ aren't important."

Cid wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to stop Vincent from saying anything more—from letting everyone else know that something he had denied being his fault…

…really _was_ his fault.

The pilot turned to gaze at everyone in the room, faces he didn't recognize and faces he did. His friends looked disappointed. He spun back around to stare at Shera, who seemed as though she were about to cry, but was trying her hardest to hold back. Those words spoken by Vincent must've seemed like Cid himself, judging from the look on her face, had spoken them. He had just been painted as the town's monster—the next archenemy of the world.

He hadn't stopped by to talk with any of his friends or those who looked up to him in Rocket Town. Cid had never cared that anyone called him _"Captain,"_ and he certainly didn't give a damn about any of the people in the town. He had always wanted to just take his plane and leave without ever coming back after the entire rocket scenario. Yes, that had been _true,_ to some extent. He didn't even care about leaving Shera behind.

That day that Cloud had given him off, he hadn't even _wanted_ to come back to Rocket Town. Finding a purpose for fighting and all of that goody-goody crap was done just to please their poetic and imaginative leader. The only thing Cid had cared about was kicking Sephiroth to kingdom come. That way, he could pull his beloved airship out from the hellhole that was the crater, and take off to sail the skies with it once more. That sounded so promising…He had thought that maybe _that_ was his reason for fighting.

But when everyone else started to leave, itinerary route in mind, some of them, like Cloud and Vincent, stayed behind to make sure that he had planned on going somewhere. He had lied, saying that he already knew what it was that he wanted to fight for, but that damned Vincent was so high strung on making the lives of other people miserable, he had forced Cid off the airship with the aim of his Death Penalty.

It had been a bummer, really, and Cid had nowhere else to go but Rocket Town. He hadn't been sure if the reason he came was because it was such a natural thing within his subconscious or if it was because he had nowhere else to go. But when he realized where he was, he became bitter and took to the bar, hoping to be seen by less people as possible. He hadn't wanted to come back. Really, he hadn't. And he definitely didn't want to go home because then he would have to see Shera, and she would be crying, and begging him to be careful, and to take better care of himself…

Cid just really didn't want to deal with it. And what she didn't know wouldn't kill her. So he figured, just out of pure boredom, that he would stay at the bar…and maybe have a few drinks while he was at it. The Captain hadn't really expected to have so many, and the bar was empty anyway, so he didn't have much of a problem with ruining his reputation in front of the bartender. And besides, it wasn't like it was _that_ much of a big deal. Like he had said to himself before, he had _found_ his reason for fighting.

Rocket Town, Shera, and the people of the like just weren't a part of that equation.

"Shera…I know how worried you've must've been for his safety. It's been months since you've seen or heard from him, is that not true?" She lowered her head, and Cid could see a lone tear voyage across her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away. "From your silence, I suppose it is."

He inwardly cursed. Why was Vincent making all of this into such a big deal? What was the problem? Shera should've understood, at least. They had known each other for _years!_ She knew that he wasn't the kind of person to keep in touch or to make it seem like he cared about anything. _Besides, she shoulda had ol' Bradley to fall back on. _Why his going out to have a few drinks was of anyone's concern was beyond him.

But…damn…he _hated_ to see Shera cry.

And the _hypocrisy! _So Cid hadn't come home that night. Big deal. _She_ was busy carrying on with some rich fellow on the side! The Captain wanted to know why _he_ hadn't been privileged to know about the relationship.

But…somehow…none of that seemed to matter. Everyone in the room was going to take Shera's side anyway. _He_ would be the one who looked bad in their eyes and the one at fault. No one would even _bother_ to hear his side of the story.

_Worried 'bout me…Vincent, you're not only deranged, you're a dead man. Yer pulling all this shit __**just**__ to force some tears and make everyone feel __**sorry**__ fer her!_

Though…it was strange, really. Cid _knew_ that Shera wasn't an actress. She couldn't just summon up tears whenever her little heart desired. These tears were true…genuine…and by gods, her tiny shoulders were quaking now. _What do you expect from me, Shera? Why is this a huge issue now?_

Cid could feel the burning gazes solely on him, the heat grazing his neck. He had never felt like such a cold and uncaring human being as he did now. Even the treatment toward her for the past five years laughed scornfully at this. It made Sephiroth look almost like another Aeris Gainsborough.

"I suppose you were hoping that _maybe_ he would've come back to see you, maybe show some _consideration_ for your worry…and perhaps find a reason for wanting to fight at _home._ It's hard to imagine that someone you care about would just want to…forget about you."

"That's enough, Vincent!" Cid snapped, hard eyes meeting Vincent's cold ones. "Can't you see what you're doing!?"

"What I'm doing?" Vincent repeated. "Don't you mean what _you_ already _did?_"

_What's he talking 'bout? He'd better not be tryin' to turn the tables on __**me!**_ Cid wasn't thinking straight. After all, all the blame was being charged to him. More than anything, he wanted the other man to shut up long enough for the pilot to comprehend everything being said and, maybe, think of an excuse in the process. Either way, it wasn't Vincent's place to involve himself. As if things couldn't already be any worse…

"You had **no** right to tell her! That's **my** job and I'll do it if I damn well please!"

_Damn, Highwind…__**real**__ bad choice of words to use there. If you didn't look insensitive before, you sure as hell do now._

"…If you please?" Vincent repeated.

Suddenly, Cid felt less sure of himself. "Uh…that's right."

"I see. And when _exactly_ did you plan on telling her, Cid?" Vincent asked, just as calm and unruffled as ever.

Before Cid could reply, Shera spoke up first, "Is that true…Captain?" Tears were freely spilling down her face, but there was a tiny glimpse of hope the pilot caught that prayed that the things Vincent was saying were false. "Is it?"

_Why's she giving me that look? Why she's crying like that? __**I'm**__ not the bad guy here! The hell would __**she**__ care if I came home or not? It's my house anyway. I do what I want and she should know that._

"Don't **lie** to her, Cid…" Vincent warned. "I think we've all heard enough of your lies."

_**My**__ lies!? How have I __**lied!?**__ What the hell is up with everybody!? Jus' because I didn't go out searching like the rest of the lot don't mean that I'm a bad guy! _

But Shera was crying. And she wasn't faking it. There wasn't even a hint of deceitfulness. She had honestly expected him to be home on that day for some reason. She had honestly expected him to find a reason for fighting by sitting at his damn table, drinking his damn tea, and carrying on a damn conversation with her. _Dammit, Shera…_

Cid couldn't find the strength to argue. Between Shera's tears, Vincent's persistency, and the glares from all his friends, he could only manage a weak, "…Yes…It's true."

He didn't know why he suddenly felt so ashamed. He didn't know why he cared, really. He didn't even know why Shera's knowledge of where he had been that night was any of her business at _all!_ But that didn't change how he felt. That didn't change the fact that he instantly regretted blowing her off and lying to Vincent about it as well. But, most of all, he regretted telling the truth. He wasn't sure which was better: lying or telling the truth.

It didn't matter now, though. Nothing would ever make him forget the look on Vincent's face or on the faces of his friends and those around him. And, above all else, he would never forget that look from Shera.

His chest wrenched in such pain that he had to turn away at the sight of Shera's cry and the hurt on her face as she held her hands to her mouth. Other gasps ran around the room, but Cid could only focus on Shera's reaction, and he forced himself to look back at her. The tears that streamed down her face and her trembling hands…What had seemed like a harmless decision before had come back to bite him tenfold.

"I see…" Vincent nodded and gazed at Shera. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

"Damn you, Vincent!" Cid shouted, his voice hoarse and cracking, although he wasn't sure why it was. He hated how he was being forced into revealing something he didn't want to. Something that seemed so damn trivial. Why couldn't everyone else see that?

"Why do I see this look on your face, Cid?" the red cloaked man asked. "Are you angry?"

"Don't ask me such a stupid question! 'Course I'm angry! You come here and cause this huge scene, not even knowing what the _hell_ yer talking 'bout, and do nothin' but upset everyone! Shera don't need to hear all of this!"

"Doesn't need to hear it?" Vincent repeated, blinking. "Doesn't need to hear it? She lives with you, waits on you hand and foot, and takes all the abuse you give her. What makes you think she doesn't _deserve_ to hear it?" Cid frowned. The other man continued, "Wasn't it _you_ who told me that you could care less if she moved out or if she found a man? It doesn't really sound at all like you should care about her _need_ to hear this, Cid. But, for her sake, I think she _deserves_ to know."

This prompted another cry from Shera, who gave Cid such a look that he found himself feeling only three inches tall. She whirled around and saw Bradley at the base of the stairs. By the glare on his face, he had heard the entire thing. She broke past the crowd and fled to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He held her as she cried and tried to sooth her with a patting hand on her back.

The Captain was numb, and, yet, felt himself experiencing several emotions all at once.

There was guilt…anger…sadness…fear…and betrayal.

"Bradley," he could hear her whimper. "Please…take me back home." When she turned back to Cid, her eyes were no longer filled with hurt, but with the same anger the pilot had shown her earlier. "Can I use your carriage when we get there? I have some things to do."

Cid was shaking. He didn't know why he was, but he was shaking. He knew what she was going to do. She was going to leave. She was going to leave and it was going to be with Bradley and she would never think twice about coming back.

"Of course," he replied and led her up the stairs, away from everyone.

Cid couldn't move.

There was much talk amongst the people there after she had left, but Cloud and the others said nothing. Cid didn't say anything either. He didn't know _what_ to say. What would it make any difference now? She was gone. She was gone and it was Vincent's fault.

When all the feelings had subsided and only the feeling of absolute hatred was left, the Captain sent out in a blind rage towards Vincent. He grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and slammed him up against the wall, earning another intake of breath from the audience.

"Damn you, Vincent!" His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking. His eyes were stinging. He threw the former Turk against the wall again. "Damn you to hell and damn it all if I don't send you there myself!"

Vincent was not fazed and it infuriated Cid further. He wanted to see the man quiver with fear or nervousness.

But Cid knew better. He could never spark that kind of emotion with Vincent Valentine.

"**Why** did you _do_ that!?" It was the _pilot_ who was shaking with fear, and hatred, and betrayal. But why the hell could it have not been Vincent? "Why the **hell** did you _do_ that!?" He wanted to punch the man before him. He wanted to punch him over and over and beat him to a bloody, fucking pulp. He wanted to strangle him and rip him apart and…

"Because you deserve it."

What? What had he _just_ said?

"_What?_"Cid barked, not quite in a rational mind to understand anything. His world had just crumbled beneath him.

"I said that you deserve it, Cid." The pilot's hands were still wrapped in the collar of Vincent's cloak, and they tightened with the raven haired man's every word. "What? You don't think so?"

Cid turned his head and offered the other man his profile. "I'm not even gonna comment on the fact that you publicly **humiliated** me, but the fact that you involved Shera—"

"You think I did this to _humiliate _you?" The Captain was taken aback. He pulled his gaze back to Vincent, mouth twitching.

"Of course, stupid! Why the hell would you do it in the first place!?"

Vincent stared at him for a moment, face unreadable, but soon made his thoughts clear once he said, "I can't believe you don't know."

"Then **enlighten** me, dammit!"

"Very well. Let me go." Cid was hesitant, but he wanted answers more than anything. Forcing himself to calm down, he slowly unraveled his fingers.

Once the pilot removed his clutches on Vincent and had stepped back, the other man pushed himself away from the wall and stood up straight. He inhaled. "Once upon a time I was in love with a woman named Lucrecia. I think you already know that. I worked with her, and wanted to help her. I wanted her to love me. However, as you may have found out, I didn't approve of the experiments.

"When I tried to talk her about it, she ran from me, and I was lost in despair. My despair only grew when I found her in the arms of another man. It didn't matter as much to me, so long as she was happy. But when I lost Lucrecia to the madness of that man, I realized how weak and indecisive I was. I couldn't even save the woman I truly loved. Everything that meant anything to me at all was in ruin…Lost."

Cid stared at him, not much understanding, but the tone of Vincent's voice didn't make him want to object. Vincent didn't speak much of his past, but after they had visited Lucrecia in her little hideaway, things became a little clearer.

"Current day, I see a woman in love with a man who doesn't notice her for anything other than a whipping post. She gives her heart and soul for that man, but is rejected by him." Vincent cocked his head to the side. "I suppose I see myself in her—the rejected."

"What the hell does this have to do with anything!?" Cid finally flared once he had safely assumed Vincent was done telling his pointless story.

"You still don't know?" Vincent asked.

"Dammit, Vincent! I'm **not** in the mood to play your fuckin' guessing games!" Cid's face was pale, oddly, and his heart was beating rapidly. _I'm gonna have a heart attack. I know it._

"All right, Cid." Vincent looked away for a moment to stare at Cloud and the others, who had been silent the entire time. "I'm talking about _you._"

"Say what?"

"I'm talking about a stubborn, foolish man who can't realize his feelings aside from his hefty ego. A man who preaches but denies himself— a man who acts like the woman who rejected me. We, the rejected, have forgiven those that we love, but the ones as stubborn as you and Lucrecia…you can't forgive yourselves."

"Stop talking in riddles!"

"Stop interrupting me, Cid," Vincent said harshly. His eyes were dark and fierce, like a wild beast's. His voice was colder than that of the temperature of the Gaia Cliffs. There was no hesitance and Vincent seemed to certainly know what he was talking about. And for the first time in a long time, Cid Highwind shut up.

"You lied to me about where you were that night, Cid. You lied about something _important,_ regardless if you think so or not. And you lied to _her._ But most of all you lied to _yourself._ Despite what you think of me, my only aim for coming here was to _help_ you." The pilot opened his mouth to speak, but the other man cut him off, "I took something away from you that you told me **yourself** you didn't want. I did it because I didn't want you to make the same mistake as me. By me taking this from you, **you** at least still have a chance to fix it. I don't."

Cid straightened his back.

"What if something had happened to her after that, Cid? What if something had happened to **you?** What then? She would have never had the chance to say goodbye to you. You would be dead or she would be dead. Do you think that's _fair?_ Do you see_ why_ she's so angry now? It's because you would have rather taken the chance that you two would never see each other again than face her and let her know what you had to do. Your reason for fighting was found in the bottom of a bottle rather than in the comfort of protecting something." Then something unusual happened. Vincent blew up, "_That's_ why _I'm_ so angry at you! I already **made** that mistake! I already **lost** Lucrecia! She's _gone,_ Cid! But Shera…" His tone settled a bit after a moment, "Shera is still right there."

Vincent lightly tapped his thigh and the Captain could hear him exhale. "Remember Aeris, Cid. _Who_ got to say goodbye to Aeris? _Think_ of the lives that will forever be changed by her death. Would _your_ life change if Shera had died? Would _her_ life change if _you_ had died? Think about it." Cid wasn't given the chance before the other man started again, "You said that Shera didn't _need_ to hear that you had spent the night at the bar instead of at home. Do you still feel that way? Do you still believe it was better she not know? And suppose that she hadn't found out, just like you intended. Would anything change?"

The former Turk shook his head. "You tell me that you don't love her. You don't even have _feelings_ for her, but do you _honestly_ think that I would've done what I just did if I believed that? Besides, you not only betrayed your friends, you betrayed yourself—your **feelings.** A normal person would not have followed a woman and her companion out here just for their health, Cid. Like I told you before, my only aim was to _help_ you."

It was then that Vincent gestured to Cloud and their friends.

"I was not the only one who tried to help you, Cid. Why do you think we're all here now? To _humiliate _you? Certainly not. I followed you out of curiosity. Why are you _here_ right now? Why did _you_ follow Shera and her companion out this far? To _stop_ them? Stop them from what? Getting married? That's just foolish."

The Captain wasn't sure what Vincent was getting at, but it certainly made him think. Why _did_ he care? It was the question he had kept asking himself from the moment he saw Shera on the phone until the moment that Vincent told her everything and she left. And he wasn't sure. He just knew that…

"I don't want to lose Shera." It was the same thing he had assured himself when talking to Joe. It seemed like an acceptable answer.

Not to Vincent. "You didn't want to _lose_ her? Perhaps that's what you _may_ have thought. But I know better." Cid looked at him quizzically. "You came out here to reclaim a piece of property to you. Like if someone takes your chair from your home, are you going to just let that person _steal_ it? What it if had been something of more value? A Chocobo? A diamond necklace? No. You wouldn't let that person get away with it."

_Chairs? Property? What the…?_

"You look confused, Cid." Vincent nodded, "All right, allow me to explain. To a chair, the only feelings you have are those of attachment because it's _yours._ Not because you love the chair, mind you, but because it's _yours._ It's the same with Shera."

The pilot straightened his back, tension feeding down his body.

"You came here because you couldn't stand the thought of her becoming someone else's property, could you? Just the very _thought_ of losing her to someone else—even if it _wasn't_ a man—killed you. Because she's _your_ property."

Cid looked away. _Is that…really how I feel about her? She's just my property and my only aim was to reclaim her because of that sole purpose?_ He shook his head. _No. NO. I ain't __**that**__ heartless! I didn't bust my butt coming out here 'cuz I wanted my property back! It __**has**__ to be something else!_

"Well, you're _wrong,_ Cid. Shera's not a pillow that you can just sit on. She's a human being and she's got feelings too. Her choice now is not _yours_ to make. If you lose her, you've only got yourself to blame." Vincent was silent a moment longer, allowing the Captain to imbibe his words. "You have no right to dictate to her. You have no right to tell her what she can or can't do when she wants to know **why** you chose to spend your night—a night you were supposed to be **finding** what you were fighting for—at the bar. It's a slap to her because she cares about **you.** Don't you understand? If you didn't have a reason worth fighting for, then why did you join the battle against Sephiroth? Did you do it because you cared about her or about anything else? Did you do it because she cares about **you?**"

_Cares? What? That can't be true. She's been carrying on with this guy forever! But why do I care? Why does it bother me so damn much that I'd be willing to follow her out here? Why is it that I haven't been able to sleep for the last three damn nights? Why do I feel like I've been struck with my own lance every time I see her holding his hand or hugging him or offering him a smile she would __**never**__ show me? Dammit! This is so confusing…_

"Can you tell me _now_ why you came out here? Can you tell me _now_ why you think I _followed_ you out here?"

_I don't wanna lose her. I don't wanna lose her to some other man because of my mistakes. I don't wanna see her kissing another man or loving another man when I wish that __**I**__ was that man instead. I don't want her to leave me. And I just now realized that._

Cid couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand how arrogant, buff ol' man Highwind had _ever_ let himself fall in love and not **know** about it for God's sakes! He couldn't even recall **when** it had happened. All he knew was that right now he cared. And, dammit, he cared a **lot.**

"She could never forgive me," Cid whispered, feeling his own tears form at the base of his throat. He didn't want to cry. Men didn't **cry—**especially Cid Highwind! But at that moment, being manly and all of that other shit didn't matter. Nothing mattered at that moment.

Because it would _never_ make Shera forgive him.

He _wanted_ to cry. He wanted to break down and put his head in his hands and cry. He wanted to confess what a hardheaded, insensitive asshole he was and how he wanted to be forgiven. He wanted her back.

"Cid…" Vincent's voice was strangely softer now. The pilot wasn't sure if the man was still staring at him because he was looking at the floor now, trying so hard not to show that he was on the verge of crying. "I can't tell you what she wants or doesn't want. All I can tell you now is that she's on her way back to Rocket Town. And she's going to _leave,_ Cid. She's leaving for _good._"

How ironic it was that both things that Vincent had predicted in the very beginning were coming true. Not only was Shera leaving, but also she was leaving with another _man._

And strangely enough, Cid didn't blame Vincent anymore. He blamed himself. He blamed himself and knew that Vincent hadn't betrayed him at all. Cid had already betrayed himself _and_ his feelings. He couldn't believe how long it had taken for him to realize that inattentively he had been following Shera because he was **jealous.** Cid Highwind…**Jealous!** It was absurd. And he would've laughed at it if he hadn't been so bent on crying now.

But it was true. He was jealous and everyone else knew it but him. He was jealous that Bradley could be the one to take her tears away and make her give him one of her precious smiles that he wanted only for himself. He was jealous of how Bradley could make her do things like ride in a Gondola or go to parties when _he_ couldn't.

The only thing Vincent had tried to do was warn him before it was too late. And it took the former Turk to take everything away from him for Cid to realize how much he truly loved Shera.

"Is that what you want?" Vincent asked. "If your answer is _'yes,'_ then that's all I have to say, Cid. But if not, then you have a choice to make. Are you going to take her back, and how so? What is the _real_ motivation that drives you, Cid Highwind?"

Everyone waited for the pilot's response. The Captain, on the other hand, was lost in thought. He had never felt so tied down by any of these emotions before. He hated it. He didn't want to be committed. But if he lost Shera, he wasn't sure if that would be any better. _I don't want to lose her. I don't. But could she forgive me after all of this? Would she laugh if I broke down and told her that Cid Highwind was in love with…with…_

"Shera…" he whispered, his heart aching as though it were about to break right inside of his chest. "I…I don't want her to leave," he said, a little louder. "I don't want her to go. I wanna talk to her."

"Then get on yer damn plane and fly to Rocket Town, bitch!" Barret called from the back. There was a roaring crowd after that, all insisting that the pilot leave that moment and follow his woman back to town.

Cid looked up, his face slightly red from trying to choke back his tears, and saw the encouragement of his friends. His friends—who _knew_ who the hell Cid Highwind was and what he stood for. His friends—who _knew_ Cid better than anyone else, and had come to his aid even when he hadn't _asked_ them to. His friends—who stood there now, without judgment, telling him to do what his _heart_ thought was right.

Cid said in a whisper, "Dammit, Shera, you'd better wait for me." With a smile he added, "Else you'll make me search the whole damn world for ya. 'Cuz I ain't gonna give up 'til you listen to what I have to say." He waved to his friends, "Wish me luck ya numbskulls! Cid Highwind is gonna get his woman whether she knows it or not!" There was another round of whistles. The pilot turned to Vincent, who said nothing, but gave a simple nod in the Captain's direction. Jerking a thumb toward the former Turk, Cid smiled and turned to jog up the stairs.

**\/\/\/**

Like I said, this chapter was probably the hardest to write. Please let me know how I did. It's a little corny…ya…but…well…at least it's filled with feeling! …Not 'filling.' XD (High-fives Vincent)

ML


	8. For The Love Of A Woman

**Disclaimer:** Don't own ANYTHING except my ideas, Bradley, and the stars! Oh! And camping!

**A/N: **The twist of the story has finally arrived! Tell me what you think. :-D And thank you to all of my reviewers! Your support through the story has truly meant a lot to me!

**\/\/\/**

**Chapter Eight**

**For The Love of A Woman**

**\/\/\/**

By the time Cid pulled into town, an entire crowd had gathered around his house—many faces of which he recognized. The pilot watched as they turned to face him, giggling and pointing. It made him feel less confident and angry all at the same time.

He was stopped by the town idiot, the man who thought he could tell jokes.

"Hey, hey, Captain! Wanna hear a joke?"

"No," Cid said flatly and brushed past him.

"It'll only take a second." The man cleared his throat and began, "He's rich and handsome and better than most men…It's Shera's boyfriend!" Cid halted in his tracks, grinding his teeth. "She's bold and triumphant and refuses to stay…Shera's leaving with him today! Ha, ha! Isn't this grea—GAAH!"

The Captain had the man by the neck, seething. "All right, you little shit, ya'd better knock the hell off before I cram my foot up yer ass, ya **hear** me!?"

"C-Captain…Can't…breathe…"

"It's true, Captain," Cid dropped the man to the ground with a thud. He turned around and saw a middle aged woman giving him a smug grin. "She's packing her things right now and leaving. Taking off with that rich man in his fancy Chocobo carriage."

Gaping, the pilot pushed past the crowd as fast as he could, huffing from a loss of breath. He could hear the townsfolk laughing and whispering amongst each other. He didn't care. He _had_ to catch her before she left. He had to stop her and tell her what a fool he was! His heart fell when he saw a shiny, red carriage. A small figure was loading a box into the back of it. He squinted.

It was Shera.

"Shera!" he called out.

She turned to look at him, recognized his unkempt attire, and turned to walk back inside the house.

"Don't turn yer back on me, woman!" When Cid got into a good listening distance, he shouted, "What do ya think yer doing!?"

She spun on her back heel to face him. "I'm leaving Captain."

"Leaving?" he repeated the word like he hadn't heard it before. But he had. He already knew she was leaving. "Why?"

"Maybe it's foolish on my part to think we have any sort of obligation to each other," she said, a twinge of pain in her voice. She tried to hide it, but Cid could hear it. "I was hoping it was something a little more than just _'Captain'_ and _'assistant.'_ Maybe like friends or something, but I suppose it's my fault for assuming a little too much." Her face dropped, as though she couldn't even bear to look at him. But she was being sincere as she said every word. "I shouldn't feel this way because you decided to go out to the bar. I mean…It's not even like we _have_ that obligation, you know? You shouldn't even feel bad." Shera shook her head, "I'm just being foolish, Captain. I'm sorry."

"Then why are you still leaving?" he asked, stepping forward.

"Because it's better this way," she replied. "I don't want to be the one who ties you down, Captain."

"Dammit, woman, it's because of _you_ I even decided to help _save_ the world in the first place!"

She looked up at him and Cid realized he wasn't ready for the immediate attention yet. Especially since all of Rocket Town was watching the two of them.

"What?" she asked, quietly.

"Shera," he began, "I know you know I followed you and that Brad-worm all over the place, eavesdropping and causing all of that shit fer ya. And you know that everything Vin said was true 'bout being at the bar and saying I didn't want you 'round no more…" her face fell again and he cursed himself for it. "But that ain't the point! I want to clear those things up for ya so we can talk."

"What about?" her voice was flat.

"I…" he was losing his nerve. Cid never thought that trying to talk to this woman would be so damn difficult. Her intimidating eyes on that small little frame of hers…He just wasn't sure how much more he could take. The Captain quickly thought of something to say, "I don't want you with that Brad-ass." She frowned at the name. _Damn, choose yer words carefully, Highwind. Yer trying to convince her ta __**stay**__ here…_ "I mean…I just don't think he's good for you is all. I…Men say all sorts of things to get what they want, Shera, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Ex-CUSE me!?"

_What? What's her problem? I'm jus' trying to tell her what a chump he is! And, well…Uh…And to tell her that…_

"Shera, I know I have no right to tell ya what you should and shouldn't do with yer life, and I ain't callin' you stupid…I…I just…"

"Captain," she cut him off. "What's this all about?"

He tried to speak, couldn't find the right words, and decided to be blunt as possible, "Stay here, Shera."

She looked at him for a moment, blinking, as though he were speaking a foreign language. He felt even more stupid than he had at Gold Saucer. _'Course she ain't gonna stay. You fucked up more than you know, Highwind. Ya think she wants ta stay with __**you!?**__ No one would put up with yer crap fer as long as she has. You have no right ta make her stay. Especially when she's already found a man that treats her so much better. Can ya blame her?_

"I don't think so, Captain." His heart fell, already knowing what her words were going to be before she had said them, but, by _God,_ he wished that he had been wrong.

"Shera," he begged. Begged? Cid Highwind…begging? …Yes. Cid Highwind _was_ begging. "Please…Please don't leave."

She had to have heard the sincerity in his voice. She _had_ to! But when she turned her back on him to go inside the house, it was all he could do to keep from breaking down in front of her. _Dammit…__**Dammit!**__ She's gonna leave…She's gonna leave and I can't stop her!_ The complete realization hit him harder than a ton of bricks. She was going to leave and never come back, and he would be all alone like he had never known it before.

"Shera!" he called out again, his voice cracking. She stopped.

"Don't make this any harder than it already is, Captain. It's better for the both of us."

"How the hell would **you** know!?" he shouted, earning a gasp from the people. "How the hell would you know what's better for me!?"

He was relieved when she stopped in her tracks, but she didn't turn around. He was blessed that at least he had gotten _that_ much from her.

"Dammit…all I want is your forgiveness, Shera…I'm so sorry for everything."

_I'm begging __**and**__ graveling, woman! You can't get any better than __**that**__ from the likes of Cid Highwind!_

"…I **do** forgive you, Captain. There was never a time that I didn't."

Damn…she knew how to make a man feel even worse. And she still wouldn't look at him. Cid was losing patience. With her **and** himself.

"Shera, I want you to look me in the eye, dammit! I'm talking to you!"

"I…I can't." She was crying now. Gods! She was crying and he wanted to cry, too, and he hated it because she wouldn't turn around to look at him and tell him she would stay, and…

"Whaddya _mean_ you _can't?_"

"Captain, please let me go."

She was walking in the house. She was going to get more of her things and throw them into the back of that stupid carriage and take off with that smarmy rich man, and they would live together happily ever after…

He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to be without _his_ Shera. He couldn't bear for her to be gone and he couldn't follow her because she didn't want him to. He didn't _**want **_to let her go.

Cid Highwind grabbed her by the arm, not knowing what else to do, and spun her around. Securing his arm around the back of her neck, he leaned down and captured her mouth with his own. She was surprised and so was he, and the crowd probably was too, but he didn't care because for **that** moment, he had the woman he loved in his arms, lips against his, and she wasn't pulling back. He could taste ginger and honey and all sorts of other womanly scents that were soft against his hard cologne and taste of tobacco.

And for _that_ moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep her there without Bradshaw and without the people behind him. This was _his_ woman. _His_ beautiful woman. And damn, was she one **hell** of a woman. Cid wasn't about to give her up to **anyone** else. Not meteor, not Sephiroth, and sure as hell not Bradley Richton.

The hand on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer, thoughts of Cloud and Aeris, Vincent and Lucrecia…the women dying to the hands of those who were indecent and corrupt. Like **hell** he'd let the same thing happen to her. He wanted to protect her and keep her safe. Why he hadn't known it before, he finally knew. He finally knew why he had spent that night at the bar.

It was because he had been too damn scared to admit to himself that **she** was his reason for fighting. He had been scared because he couldn't understand any of these feelings. Cid never wanted a woman. He never wanted a _wife._ He never wanted a family after the family he had as a kid. He didn't want commitment. He wanted the skies. He wanted the stars.

He wanted her.

He didn't want her.

No. He **did.** He always **had.**

He wanted to be loved. He wanted the attention. He wanted a family. He wanted a wife. He wanted **her.** It was silly thinking like that now. He was just a big baby inside of a grown man's body who wanted to be cared about. When she had worried about him, he liked it. When she had cried because of him leaving, he liked it. It made him feel wanted—needed. He had never been needed before.

He had always been spoiled by having her. And now that she was leaving, he realized all the years he had taken her for granted. It was so hard because he couldn't find the right words. He had just never been good with his feelings. But if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that there was no way in **hell** he was going to let her go.

She was **his.** Not his property, but his _woman. _**His **woman.

She was his reason for fighting.

And there wasn't any other better reason than that.

If Cid had been paying any attention at all, which he hadn't, he would've seen the silhouettes of all of his friends, Vincent in front. There was a rare smile on the man's face and he brought his hands together in applause. Cloud and the others, including Reeve (who had joined them for this brilliant occasion), started cheering and clapping too. Barret threw out some whistles and riled the rest of the townsfolk into applause and whistles. Soon, the entire crowd around Cid and Shera were shouting in massive approval, and Vincent Valentine was proud of his good friend.

"Way to go, Captain!"

"You go get 'er!"

"Show 'em!"

Cid could hear the people around him and he couldn't help but chuckle against Shera's lips. When he pulled back, he saw that one side of her glasses had fallen off of her nose, and she was staring at him with utmost disbelief. But there was curiosity in her eyes. The Captain released his arms from around her and took a couple of steps backwards. He knew that he should've been apologetic. He knew that it hadn't been right for him to just grab and kiss her. What right did _he_ have?

But he told that inner voice of his to shut the hell up. He was a _man,_ dammit! He was going to take what was rightfully his!

Shera didn't say one word, her face pale and glasses still crooked. She even lost her footing for a moment and had to regain her balance. _Guess I have that kind of effect on women. But at least it shut her up for the moment._

The crowd was silent again.

"Now that I have yer attention, there are a few things I gotta say." Cid swallowed, still uncomfortable with the audience and the fact that he had to open himself to find the right words. _Those three stupid little words. Why couldn't I have just used a flashcard instead?_

He was staring at her with an awkward silence trailing behind. If he didn't speak now, she would regain her composure and continue on with her packing. Cid sharply turned back to look at the crowd. He saw his friends in the background, pumping fists into the air. The pilot suddenly smiled when he saw Vincent in the front, mouthing, _"Tell her."_

Cid turned back and straightened his back as much as a man of the skies could do. He forced himself to give Shera a hard stare that left her in a state of silence. "I love you, dammit," he blurted. "And there's no way in hell you're leaving." When the low murmur emitting from the crowd had dissipated, he began again, "It took me all this time to realize it and to realize that I was avoiding you that night for a reason." _Keep your back straight, Highwind! If you show weakness here, then that Bradley guy is gonna be out here flashing hundreds! _"I'm a chickenshit." He smiled. "There, I said it. I was too scared to think that I could fall in love. I don't like being surprised, Shera, but, boy, was I sure surprised when I realized how much I loved you."

He was trying not to look at the ground, but found that he was failing. "And I realized how much it hurt when I saw you and that guy together. I saw you smiling for him and doing things I knew you would never do with me. I guess I was…kind of…jealous."

He expected to hear laughter (or at _least_ muffled giggling) from around the crowd, but strangely enough…he didn't.

Maybe it was because Shera was hugging him. Maybe it was because she was crying again into his jacket and holding him so tight that he couldn't breathe. Or maybe it was because he was hugging her back, whispering how sorry he was over and over.

"I love you," she told him, her words absorbed into his clothes.

Cid wanted to be a man. But he was nearly crying too. And he cursed himself for it. He was still scared. Still scared because she had told him that she had loved him. She was holding him and crying and telling him that he had nothing to be sorry for. And he was even more scared when he saw Bradley Richton on the front porch…

…clapping.

Wait, _clapping!?_ What the hell!?

Cid stood up aggressively, and slowly pushed Shera behind him, guarding her with one hand.

"Yer too late, asshole!" the pilot shouted. "She's **my** woman and you ain't gonna do _nothin'_ to take her away from me!" He was still clapping. "Why are you clappin'!?"

Shera was laughing. Cid turned on her to see her wiping her eyes and adjusting her glasses.

"Shera," he hissed. "Why are you laughing!? Tell this guy to get lost!"

"Captain," she began, still chuckling. "Bradley is my _cousin._"

Cid couldn't believe it.

He just stood there, jaw agape, fingers numb, and said nothing. All this time…after _everything._ All the problems…all the hatred and jealousy… _Well…I'll be damned._ No. No, she wasn't _serious._

"Huh!?"

"My cousin, Captain. Bradley is my _cousin._"

Cid looked back and forth between Shera and the rich man. Bradley was smiling, _still_ clapping, and Shera was giving unrestrained giggles. The Captain was shaking his head, eyes wide, and _refused_ to believe that all this time, he had been jealous of a _nobody._ He had just confessed his feelings upon the thought of her leaving him for another _man._ Not a cousin!

He felt tricked…but only by himself. How was _he_ to know!?

"Son of a…!" He glared at her. "You kiddin' me!?"

"She's not kidding, old man."

Everyone looked up and cleared the way for two men, both dressed in dark suits. Reno grinned as he gestured to Bradley. "Mr. Richton, we've been looking for you."

Eyes were upon the rich man, who seemed unfazed. He was still smiling, in fact. "I see. Have I troubled you?"

Reno laughed while Rude grunted and adjusted his glasses—a quirk that always revealed his discomfort.

"Let's just say that we don't plan on going back to the Gold Saucer for a while." Reno tapped his nightstick against his shoulder. "Anyway, I think you should know why we're here."

"Or rather…why we followed you." Rude looked to Reno.

"I think I have an inclination," Bradley said, and stepped down off the porch. "What would you have me do?"

"There's still someone we have to deal with," the redhead confessed. "Meet us at the bar in an hour. I expect a man of your profession to not be late."

"As always," Shera's cousin agreed. "See you then."

Cid was confused—No, **more** than confused. Nothing made sense! First, Bradley was Shera's cousin, and now he was associated with the _Turks?_

"What's next?" he muttered.

"Perhaps it's time everything is cleared up," Bradley tapped his index finger against his chin. "Inside?"

\/\/\/

If there was a pistol in the back of Cid Highwind's closet, he would've already used it. He was sprawled out in his favorite chair, pale, and stared at Shera and Bradley like they were the two craziest people in the world.

"Captain," she blinked. "Can I get you some water?"

He couldn't even speak. His reaction time was off (the function was damaged), and his mind was a swirling torrent of mass confusion. Cid wanted a cigarette. After everything they had told him, it was a wonder how he could still breathe or remember to blink. His tongue ran dry.

Everything. Everything had been a misunderstanding. No…a **BIG** misunderstanding. And he felt foolish. Cid Highwind, foolish? Dear **Lord,** where had **that** come from!? For the past three days he had done nothing but blamed the wrong people, caused catastrophes, and looked like a complete idiot in the end.

After the rocket had launched towards Meteor, Shera had received a letter from Bradley Richton, who had found her through Shinra resources. They had lost contact with each other ten years prior. Since then, the two had been communicating nonstop, planning on getting together to discuss what was happening in their lives. That's when the Captain's name had been brought up for the first time.

No doubt Shera had already told her cousin about all of the verbal abuse Cid had given her, as well as the cause of it—not that there was any excuse—in the first place. The thought of that made the pilot feel even guiltier. Letters were being exchanged often after that, even after Cid had come home. Shera and Bradley were making secret phone calls and writing confidential letters for a _reason._

"Part of the reason was because Bradley wanted to come here and we didn't want you to know about it," Shera had said. "He was trying to help me to communicate with others better and overcome my fear of social outings. Also…it was to help me to find the courage to…tell you how I felt."

Cid swallowed his pride after that. Bradley had taken her to the club that night to persuade her to tell the pilot that she had loved him. And that she **had** loved him for quite some time. Even after all that the rich man knew about Cid Highwind, he was _still_ determined to see to it that his cousin voiced her feelings. _Anyone else would've told her to forget about me. __**Anyone**__ else._

That's what the trip had been for, too. Not only was it a family reunion of sorts, but it was to further help Shera to find the courage to stand up to big, burly Highwind. The whole thing had been kept a secret for that reason, but not that reason alone. But that other reason came later.

Bradley's profession was engineering, similar to Shera's, but he had made a living off of it. He had created some unique parts, sold them, and now was one of the richest men on the western continent. Cid had heard of his company, Richton's Conglomerate, but had **no** idea that he was related to Shera. He also had some ties with the Shinra that was strictly business, but was otherwise uninvolved.

However, it accounted for why he had so much money and had his own private plane. It accounted for how he could afford to take Shera to a resort town _and_ an amusement part. And everything Cid had seen…Shera's bikini, the yacht, the bonfire games…they were all supposed to improve social interaction.

But then there had been Palmer and Bradley's association together. It was the reason that Cid went to Gold Saucer to see the two of them having a grand old time on the Gondola and fun at the play.

"You numbskulls _knew_ there was a kissing scene in that play and you _still_ went through with it!?" Cid had barked.

"I don't think you seem to understand," Bradley said, evenly. "I _told_ them we were cousins and they changed that part of the play. I was simply going to kiss her hand, Captain. …You were upset over _that?_"

The pilot pushed his bottom lip out, scornful at the fact that something that had once seemed like such a big deal really was nothing at all.

Now he was still in the chair, speechless, until one more issue came to his mind. The one issue that drove him to Gold Saucer, that made him _hate_ Bradley Richton even more, and the second reason that everything had been kept a secret in the first place.

"The ring," Cid finally blurted after quite some time. "You were going to buy her a **ring.**"

Bradley stared at him, as though he had been caught doing something naughty, and then smiled.

"Shera, I suppose the charade is up. He overheard us on the gondola, it seems."

"What do you expect?" she shrugged with a smile. "He was following us the whole time."

"Very well," Bradley shifted his weight onto his back leg and took a deep breath. "I will tell you what this is all about, Captain." Cid frowned, not very much sure he wanted to hear it. "I suppose it seems simply strange that Shera and I would be hiding so much behind your back if we were only going to meet."

"Yeah, it does," the pilot agreed.

"Well," the rich man nodded, "I'll explain."

"Wait, Bradley," Shera interrupted. "It's only fair that I start. This part is the most important."

Her cousin turned to her and nodded in understanding. "Very well."

"Captain," she focused her attention on Cid, "None of this had been planned until Cloud told me the day after you came back that the Highwind was lost in the battle. I know how much your airship meant to you, and I wanted to give you a surprise gift."

"Spike…told you?" The foulmouthed blonde blinked countless times. _First the villa and now the Highwind? What __**else**__ has Spike been tellin' her?_

"Yes," Shera nodded. "I told Bradley about it and he came up with an idea."

"I was going to help in the construction of a new aircraft," her cousin admitted. "We were going to look for parts together. That's what we didn't want you to find out. **That's** what we were going to tell you when we got back to Rocket Town."

The pilot frowned. "I heard you tellin' Palmer to 'marry her soon.' What's up with that?"

"I had told him that Shera was my cousin when he referred to her as my girlfriend. Then, I said that I hoped the lucky bloke who was living with her now would marry her soon. That, of course, being _you._"

"…Oh…" Cid felt like a bloody fool. But he wasn't completely taken over, _yet._ He cleared his throat. _Back to the real question now._ "And the ring?"

"Oh, yes, that's right," Bradley nodded. "I was only going to help Shera _find_ the parts. Then I decided."

The pilot cocked an eyebrow. "Decided _what?_"

"I was going to sponsor the entire thing."

"_**What!?**_" Cid leapt out of the chair, screaming. He couldn't believe it. This knucklehead was going to do _what!?_

"The ring you overheard me talking to Palmer about was none other than the most expensive carbon ring for an airship that one could find. I had to order special struts for it, too. Lightweight segments, however, won't be as difficult to obtain."

"You're shittin' me!"

"I kid you not," Bradley shook his head. "Your so-called _'engagement ring'_ is nothing more than the carbon ring to be fitted in _your_ new airship. Shera didn't know what I had decided, and part of the reason I took her to Gold Saucer was to pick up the ring because that was the only place big enough to hold it until I got there. **That** was the present I was going to give to her before you showed up at the Chocobo Races: to inform her that I had decided to fund your new airship costs."

Cid didn't know quite how to feel. He felt so guilty, and, yet, so light all at the same time. He was getting a new airship. And the ring had been a misunderstanding. But, at the same time, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it because he had gone through so much trouble, and caused trouble for other people around him. In the end, Shera _hadn't_ been sneaking around because she was carrying on with some guy. She had been sneaking around to do something for _him,_ and like hell he deserved **anything** from her.

If he had received any gray hairs because of this little ordeal, Cid knew he _ought _to have them. It was justified to have them. The pilot felt himself fall back into the chair. He looked from Bradley to Shera, mouth gaping. "Shera, I…I don't know what to say…I'm…I'm so sorry…"

"Don't worry about it, Captain," she assured him. "It was a simple mistake. You have nothing to be sorry for."

He hated it when she did that. Why couldn't he just apologize and her just take it? Especially now since he felt like the biggest idiot in the world. This woman…this _woman_ was doing all she could to build him another airship, and she and her cousin had taken all the abuse he had given the two of them. Bradley, who had _every_ reason to hate him, was funding all of the airship's costs.

Cid buried his face in his hands, unsure of whether he wanted to laugh or cry. The mess he had caused over something like this…It just made him want to run to his room, slam the door, and hide himself in his closet.

"Captain, please don't cry…" Shera was soothing his back. Was he crying? His face was wet, so he had to have been. Damn. And he was weak, too. Crying was such a sissy thing.

"Shera," his voice cracked as he looked up and grabbed her around the waist, burying his head in her stomach. "Shera, I…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. I…I didn't have the slightest idea because I was so…so…" It wasn't like any of them could understand what Cid Highwind was trying to say. He was sobbing and his body was shaking. He couldn't believe he was crying.

"Hmm…" Bradley was speaking now. "Perhaps this is where I make my exit. The Turks are expecting me, anyway." Then the sound of a door shutting resounded around the room.

Silence passed between the two of them, Cid still holding Shera, whose fingers were entangled in his hair as she shushed him gently. He tried to stop himself, restraining his tears and his wracking sobs. It didn't seem so out of the ordinary, really. He had wanted to break down from the first moment he saw Shera intertwine her fingers with Bradley's. Who knew that things would turn out like this? All he knew was that he had screwed up so much that forgiveness was _definitely _out of the question.

But Shera was still there, raking her fingers through his locks, and cradling his head as he continued to hold her. He felt like a little kid. Normally, he would've scoffed at such an act, but he didn't want to be alone. Despite it being what he deserved, he was terrified of being alone. He knew he would break if she left.

He would have to come home everyday after this one and the house would be bare and dark. He would have to drink tea alone and work on his projects alone. Shera wouldn't be there for him to talk to about what had irritated him that day or bring him lunches to work like a mother to a child who had forgotten it when he went to school.

Even those stupid holidays where people spent time together, he wouldn't have those, either. Shera wouldn't be there to decorate the house and make big dinners. She wouldn't be there to spend them with. She knew he never could remember those holidays, but she would and would always do extra special things for him. Even though she never got anything in return for it, she still did it. If she left, all of that would stop and he would spend those days alone, without the decorating and the holiday dinners.

He would spend all of those days growing older. There wouldn't be anything else left for him to do but grow older. And he would be all alone to do it. All because of him.

Cid's arms tightened around her waist, as though she were going to disappear before his eyes. He knew he couldn't handle it if she did.

Shera was still gently soothing his back, and eventually he _did_ manage to calm himself. The continued thought of how outlandish this was for him made him feel worse.

"S…Sorry…" he muttered, pulling his face away from her dampened shirt. She seemed hesitant to release him, but did so anyway and took a couple steps back to give him space.

"Captain, you don't have to—"

"Yes I do," he cut her off, but his voice wasn't harsh. He quickly rubbed his arm against his wet cheeks. "Don't tell me I don't gotta, because I **do,** Shera."

"Everyone cries once in a while, Captain. It's human."

"That ain't what I'm talking 'bout," he argued, but felt his chest grow heavy. _Well…crying is __**part**__ of it, but I won't tell her that._ "Just…hear me out, okay?"

"Of course, Captain."

He gritted his teeth. "_Cid._ My name is _Cid._ I want you to use it."

There was another pause. He wasn't sure what she was doing because he couldn't force himself to look at her. He was staring at the floor.

"All right…Cid."

The pilot sighed and continued to gaze at the ground. "I don't deserve you," he began. "Everything I put you through and _still_ you hang 'round here, Shera. Now I find out that all this is because yer building me a new airship? It ain't right. I can't accept it."

"Cid…"

"And your love. I don't deserve that, either." He pounded his fist against his knee, startling the woman, "Dammit, Shera, why are you so good to me!?"

He didn't want to look at her. He was too scared to. But then he heard her start to move and he was worried that she was walking out on him. He couldn't blame her, either. After hearing everything out in the open, he didn't blame her one bit.

But that didn't stop him from worrying.

Cid quickly jolted his head upwards to see her walk towards the kitchen.

"Let me make you some tea, Cid. You look exhausted."

He couldn't believe it. He just **couldn't** believe it! How could she just go about her business like nothing was wrong!?

"Shera! What's the matter with you!? Aren't ya listenin' to a **word** I'm saying!? You should be **hating** me! Loathing my very existence! What are ya doing making **tea** for!?"

When she turned to smile at him, it made him all the more angrier. It was one of those precious smiles—like those that she had given Bradley. She was _finally_ giving one to him. It was his to own and to keep to himself. He couldn't believe it.

Cid jumped from his chair, stormed over to her, and raised his arms in an exasperated notion to start yelling. But before he could do much, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and said, "Don't try to make me stop loving you. It won't work."

He halted in his tracks, dumbfounded (which apparently had became the Captain's new favorite emotion), and gawked at her. She moved her hand higher to sweep it gently across his cheek, still smiling. Then Shera turned around to continue to make tea. Cid watched her, words abandoning him.

_That woman. I just don't know what to make of her._

\/\/\/

Bradley didn't bother to say what his business with the Turks was about, but he returned to the house later that evening and summoned Cid to the front porch. The Captain was nervous. He owed a lot to the man, and he had been caught off guard on more than one occasion for the day. He just wanted it all to be over with.

"Good evening," Bradley greeted.

"Yeah," the pilot grunted in response. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the sky. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked after a moment. It surprised him to ask such a question. Normally he wouldn't care. _Well…I __**am**__ tryin' to apologize here. Best not to screw up now._

"No, go right ahead."

Feeling more relieved, the pilot withdrew a single stick from the carton lodged between his goggles. Striking a match against the railing on his porch, he put the lighted end towards the cigarette and then shook it until the fire died. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Bradley seemed to be waiting until Cid had gotten settled into the atmosphere before speaking. "Do you know why I called you out here?"

Cid flinched. "To bitch at me? Eh…not that I blame you if ya do…"

"No," the other man said, his gaze sternly upon the pilot. "That's not it at all."

"Hmm?" Cid held his comfort in between two fingers, letting a trail of smoke sail up into the sky.

"I know you have things to ask me. Things you want to ask _only_ in front of me. Or perhaps tell me. Isn't that right, Captain?"

The pilot looked away. _Man, this guy's puttin' me on the spot. I'm no good at this stuff._ He found himself chewing on the inside of his mouth. _'Course, if I could tell Shera that I love her and survive, then maybe tellin' him "sorry" won't be so bad either._

"But first I have a question to ask you."

"Hmm?" Cid flinched. He wasn't sure if he was prepared with any answers that the other man was expecting.

"Shera informed me that you told her that you already knew who I was. Yet, by your actions, you hadn't the slightest clue. All this time she thought you were aware of the fact that she and I were cousins. Why did you lie?"

"Gah…" Cid was fumbling with one end of his jacket. "I don't…really…have an answer for that. I…I guess I didn't want to hear her tell me that you two were lovers. I…" he broke off.

"You…didn't want to have a possibility available that you had lost her to me. Isn't that right?"

The Captain found himself chuckling, though he didn't know why. To hear his hidden thoughts being spoken aloud by another man was almost…embarrassing.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's it, I guess."

"I thought so." Bradley didn't add anything else after that. It took another moment or two for the pilot to find something _worth_ saying.

"I…I'm sorry…" he found himself whispering. Cid quickly took another drag off of his cigarette, nervous.

"I know. I already know that you are."

"And you can forgive me? Just like that?"

"Shera already has deeply informed me about what kind of man you are, Captain. I'm not surprised you reacted as badly as you did. I think I would've as well, had I been in the same situation."

"Bah," Cid turned away. "Easy for you ta say, Richton. You and Shera are acting way too nice. Even my friends were more scornful than this."

"Ha," Shera's cousin chuckled. "Is this wrong?"

"Well, it ain't right. If you want me feelin' worse, you're well on yer way."

"That's not my intent at all," Bradley confessed. "I love my cousin dearly and support her in everything she does."

Cid snorted. "So _that's_ why yer funding the airship. I see now…"

"No, that's _not_ why." The foulmouthed man spun on his foot to stare Bradley directly in the eye. "I want to get to know my future in-law, so to speak. I can say that I provoked the situation by making Shera act in secret with me. I…hope you can forgive me for that."

The pilot squinted. _No…No way…! This guy is actin' __**way**__ too nice! Rich guys aren't supposed ta act like __**this!**__ I don't understand! And he's askin' __**me**__ to forgive him!? Man, what's he think this is, a Holier-Than-Thou competition!?_

"I can see the look in your eyes, Captain. I don't expect you to understand. Shera and I have been through a lot together, but that's a tale for another time and place. I respect my cousin's wishes, if you will, and if you cannot see things for anything other than that, then please allow me to voice _my_ wishes."

"I can't pay you back for the airship," Cid shook his head. "That's a debt that I can't even get out of myself."

"I don't want any of your money." Bradley was just as serious as the pilot was. It was frightening. "I want you to take care of Shera. I want you to marry her and take care of her for the rest of your days. She at least deserves that."

_She deserves __**more**__ than that, if you ask me._ "Are you sure I'm the right guy to be asking for that kind of stuff? She _did_ tell you what a jerk I am, right?"

"Nevertheless, she sees something in you that has obviously intrigued her. Do you honestly believe she'd give her love to just _anybody?_" For some strange reason, a dark haired man in a frilly red cloak suddenly came to mind. _More lectures. Jus' what I need. Thanks Vincent._

"I'm envious of how close you two are." Cid took another puff from his cigarette. "Never in a thousand years would someone do what yer doin' for her." And then he laughed, "You're such a numbskull, rich boy. Leaving her in the hands of a moron like me."

"There's no one better to do the job," Bradley admitted. "I know that not even the likes of another Meteor could stand in the way of you protecting her. Captain Highwind wouldn't run away." The pilot blinked, as if what the other man was saying was simply untrue. "Let's face it, Captain. I'm no warrior. All I have is the money to get from place to place and support myself. But that won't save Shera, and, to be truthfully honest, she's the only family I have left."

Cid didn't quite understand what Bradley was talking about. It seemed that the rich man was getting too sentimental for his own good, and, either way, it was above the Captain's head.

"If I took Shera away from here, I know that I don't have the manpower to protect her and I know she'd be miserable, too. She wouldn't be able to _survive_ being away from you. The only reason she was going to leave in the first place was because she thought that _you_ didn't want her around any longer." The other man was looking to the sky now, "So, you see, Captain. I have no choice _but_ to ask you for this favor." When his eyes turned back to Cid's, he asked, "Well, Captain? Will you think about it?"

Indeed, there was no man like Cid Highwind. He wasn't the type to back down or cower his way out of a situation. He stood up to Meteor, and he stood up to Sephiroth, too. He even stood up to Bradley Richton before he knew the truth. Things that he loved, like the sky, the stars, the Planet…and Shera…**Those** were the things he wanted to protect the most. And he would **die** protecting them.

"You kiddin' me? Count me in." He beat a fist against his chest. "Shera's got nothin' ta worry 'bout being with me."

Bradley smiled. "Thank you, Captain."


	9. Shera

**Disclaimer:** You'd better know the drill nine chapters later lol!

**A/N:** Thank you to all of my reviewers! This story is finally finished and about bloody time! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you when I see ya!

**\/\/\/**

**Chapter Nine**

**Shera**

**\/\/\/**

Shera found Cid in his den, stacks of Chocobo Breeding books on the floor. One was in his hands and his nose was shoved into it when she knocked.

"Ya?" he called out, not bothering to look away from his book.

"I made you some tea," she said, walking in with a saucer. She looked over his shoulder to see the title of the book. "Captain…why on earth are you reading a Chocobo Breeding book?"

"Huh?" He lowered the book to take the tea cup from her. "Oh, I was thinking 'bout maybe clearing out the back and making it into a pen, ya know? Raising Chocobos might not be that bad…"

She stared at him. "Cid…This is quite…sudden…"

"Let's just say it was one of those experiences I'm takin' seriously."

He took a sip from his tea and looked back to the book. _Note to self: demand Cocoa from Cloud or else make realistic threats._

\/\/\/

Cid was unpleasantly awoken the next morning to vicious beatings on his front door. He groggily pulled himself out of bed and shouted for Shera. When the rapping continued and Shera didn't respond, he lined his tongue with a few strings of curses and slowly padded down the stairs and to the front door.

"What?" he mumbled as the door swung open.

Bradley Richton was staring at him. Cid saw why.

"Son of a…!" the pilot jumped behind the door, looking desperately for _anything_ to clothe himself besides his boxers. "Just a second!"

"Well, I won't be long," Bradley explained, sticking his head in the doorway. "I want you to head to the back of town in a moment. There's something I want to show you."

"Fine, fine!" Cid scowled. "I'll be out there in ten minutes! Just get the hell out of my doorway!"

He heard the rich man chuckle.

"Whatever you say, Captain."

\/\/\/

As promised, the Captain met Bradley out behind the town in ten minutes, grumbling and scoffing all the while. He was dusting himself off when he looked up to see at least a hundred people all assembling parts and pieces.

"Woah…" he gaped, staring up at the start of an outline to an airship.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Cid refocused his attention on Shera's cousin. "I handpicked and hired them all myself." There was something in Bradley's hand. "Still, I'm afraid that I don't know a thing about airships, so I don't want to screw it up." The rich man took Cid's hand and plopped a rolled up poster in it. "That's why I'm putting you in charge of all of this."

The pilot sputtered, looking at the blueprints in his hand to the smug grin on Bradley's face. "You…you what?"

"Seriously, Captain. All of these men are under **your** command now. Do with them as you wish."

"Bradley, I can't accept…"

"Man, stop yer apologizin' and stuff awready!" Cid looked to Barret, who was standing amongst the group that contained his friends. "This is what they wanted to give ta ya in da first place, Cid."

The pilot chuckled, turning his attention to Cloud and the others. Shera stepped up beside him.

"I hope it's all right," she told him, taking his arm.

He inattentively held her hand. "It's more than all right," he replied, turning back to the construction of his new airship.

"Captain," Bradley was speaking again.

"Yeah?"

"There's someone I know who's starting a rather intricate organization. He's looking for someone to command the airship fleet."

Cid blinked and then looked around himself. "Wait, you dun mean…"

"It's good to see you say 'yes,'" the rich man said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll send you the reports when they come in. WRO is counting on you."

"WRO?" he asked.

"The World Restoration Organization," Reeve stepped in. The pilot turned to him. "The world is in bad shape after all of this. We'll need someone like you to help lead them."

"We?" Cid blinked.

"Reeve's in charge of WRO," Bradley confessed. "…Which was another reason I had to travel to Gold Saucer. I had to speak with him, after all. He had some very promising things to say about you."

"You…" The Captain blinked. "Spybot?"

"At your service," Reeve bowed, chuckling all the while.

"I can't believe you knew each other and didn't tell me!" Cid barked.

"I'm sorry," the former Shinra executive said, "It was all confidential."

"Son of a…" Exhaling, Cid looked to Shera, who only nodded, eyes sparkling. She was obviously proud of her Captain.

"Congratulations," Bradley said.

"Geez, you numbskulls. This is too much." The pilot closed his eyes and turned his head away. "If you wanted ta make me feel worse, you've succeeded."

"The airship, old man!" Yuffie shouted in the background. "What about the airship!?"

"What about it!?" Cid called back, irate that the girl had ruined his moment.

"She wants ta know what ya plan on namin' it, Cid," Barret cut in.

Cloud finished, "We all do."

"This is an important day, Cid," Tifa stepped in behind Cloud, smirking. "You're pretty lucky."

"Shaddup," the pilot snapped. "All of ya, jus' put a cork 'n it!" He looked up at the new airship. "Still…it'd be wrong to work on it without callin' it **something.**"

"What about the Highwind II?" Shera suggested.

Cid frowned. "I guess, but it just don't feel right…"

"That's a first!" Yuffie stuck her tongue out. "Then whaddya plan on naming it?"

"Well, I ain't namin' her after **you** if **that's** what yer thinkin'!" Cid retorted and then brushed his thumb against his nose in thought. "I think I know what I'll name her."

"What?" Shera nudged him. "What's her name?"

"The Shera, 'course!" Cid laughed and then shot the female engineer a heartfelt smile. "It's perfect!"

She stared at him like he was insane, but her eyes illuminated with such amazement that she could hardly stand up straight. "Are you…serious?"

"What? You don't like it?" He looked back to the foundation of the airship. "Well, too bad! I ain't changing the name!"

"Captain!" she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she buried her face into his jacket.

Laughing, he returned her hug and nuzzled his face in her hair. When she glanced up for the slightest moment, he caught her off guard with a quick kiss. Shera toppled to one side, but he held her upright with his arm and pulled his lips back just as fast. "I knew you'd like that."

"Sorry to break up this little party, but we have a problem."

All eyes were diverted from the new airship and Cid to an oncoming duo.

"The Turks," Reeve whispered.

Reno strutted down the road, waving his nightstick, as Rude adjusted the gloves on his hands. They stopped in front of Bradley.

"Mr. Richton, I thought we had an agreement yesterday to abandon all construction on the airship."

Out of the corner of his eye, Cid saw Cloud stoop forward, grunting.

"Yes, I know that," Bradley said. "But the construction is out of my hands now. Perhaps you'd like to consult Mr. Highwind and all of his friends on the matter."

Reno's attention fell to the small posse of AVALANCHE, and he clicked his tongue against his mouth. He gave Cloud more of a glance than the rest, and then turned back to Bradley. "WRO, eh? You went behind our backs."

"My obligation was never to Shinra," the rich man confessed. "I only supplied your equipment, nothing more. Whatever matter you have with my cousin's betrothed and the others stay with them. I can spend my earnings on whatever I please."

"Are we on?" Rude asked his partner.

Reno said nothing as he cast another glare in Cloud's direction.

"Reno…" Cloud began, his voice stern and threatening. "I thought we had a truce…"

"You mean after Gold Saucer?" Reno waved him away, snickering. "That truce has been over since we dropped you guys off in Rocket Town. We only agreed to bring you here, and that's all. Everything after that are strict orders from HQ."

"So _that's_ how you guys got here," Cid said, looking to Cloud.

"We won't hesitate to fight you," the delivery boy warned. "I'm not sure whose orders you're taking, but that won't stop us from making sure you don't get in our way."

"Whose orders?" Reno blew a gust of air through his pursed lips and then turned to Rude. "Man, ya know what would happen if they got this thing up and running? It would cause us a helluva lot of trouble, eh, Rude?"

"I'd have to agree," the normally silent Turk affirmed.

"Buuuuuut…" Then the redhead glanced back to Cloud and the others, a wide smile pasted on his face. It broke into a pearly white grin. "I guess we could afford to give them a slight head start. Just for that little _thing._"

"Thing?" Cid questioned.

"Gold Saucer," the other Turk answered. "Naturally, we could've saved our selves within due time…"

"But time was something we didn't have enough of. A drunken stupor and Don Corneo ain't a combination you want in the crossfire." Reno gave a laugh, which prompted a chuckle from Rude, "Isn't that right…Cloud?"

"Gah!" The blonde dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"What?" Cid blinked. "Did I miss somethin'?"

"A whole **lotta** somethings, Cid!" Barret lowered his head, shaking it. "Man, if you **ever** bring dat up again, Turk, I'll bust you up!"

Then Reeve and Tifa began to laugh, and the two Turks were pointing fingers at them.

"What?" the pilot repeated, pulling himself away from Shera to join in on the commotion. "What the hell is so funny!?"

"Cloud, I hope you've burned that disturbing garment," Vincent mumbled, giving a sigh afterwards.

"Man, that thing was **nasty!**" Barret shot a glance to Cloud, who looked up with a start.

"Shut up!" the former mercenary shouted. "All of you, shut up! You didn't look any better than me!"

"But at least we had **clothes** on, Cloud," Tifa joined in on the argument, as though it were too good of an opportunity to pass up. "You were…I should say…vulgar."

"What!? Take that back!"

"Would someone **please **explain what's goin' on 'ere!" Cid spun in a circle, eyeing all of his friends.

"What happened to 'im, anyway?" Barret turned his attention to the Turks.

"We locked him in the back of the helicopter," Reno jerked a thumb back towards the entrance of the town. "He'll be getting some pretty hefty charges if I can help it."

"Helicopter…" Bradley held a hand up to shield his eyes as he stared at a rising piece of Shinra technology. It hovered there for a moment and then the helicopter briefly began to fly away. "You mean that one?"

"Huh?" All laughter ceased and everyone turned to gaze at what had caught Bradley's eye. "Hey!" Reno shouted. "What the hell!?"

"How did he…!?"

"Man…I gotta give dat Don Corneo more credit," Barret harrumphed. "He just made off with yer chopper."

"Son of a…!" Both Turks were off in an instant, shouting vulgarities and swinging their arms. Rude was requesting backup on his phone.

"Boy, they got their work cut out for them," Yuffie giggled.

Red XIII wagged his tail. "I almost feel sorry for them."

"All right, spill it," Cid began once the Turks had disappeared over the horizon and everyone was silent, still looking after the helicopter. "What's this about?"

"Well…you know that whole time in Gold Saucer when you couldn't find us?" Cloud asked.

Reeve hastily added, "And when I couldn't go on the Gondola with you?"

Cid awkwardly stared at them.

"Well, the majority of us had been taken hostage against Don Corneo," the former mercenary cut in again. "It was terrible, really."

"That the guy we saw up on Da Chao?" Cid quirked an eyebrow. "That loser with the red coat and frilly collar?"

"Careful what you say," Barret warned. "Else the **Don **will get you."

"Psh," Cid tilted his head heavenwards, skeptically.

"Oh my…" Shera held a hand to her mouth and turned to Bradley.

"Now what?" the pilot was losing patience with being the outcast of the entire conversation. Bradley and the female engineer didn't seem to notice as they continued to talk with each other.

"That man at Gold Saucer," she told him and Bradley's eyes widened.

"Wait…do you mean that short man with the blonde Mohawk and _'love'_ tattooed on the side of his head?"

"That's him," Tifa said.

"Why?" Cid questioned, looking directly at Shera. "How do you know him?"

Bradley was rubbing the back of his neck and his cousin was adjusting her glasses, sheepishly. "Well…we saw him when we were leaving Gold Saucer…" The pilot's eyes squinted. He didn't like where this was going. "…He slapped my butt."

"That's it!" Cid turned in an instant, marching back to his house.

"Wait, Captain!" Bradley started after him. "Where are you going!?"

"To get my Venus Gospel and plane. When I find the son of a bitch, I'm gonna break him into pieces and send him to every corner of the world!"

Behind the pilot, Shera smiled.

Despite how hardheaded her Captain was, he _did_ love her—would _protect_ her.

And, despite his harsh attitude, that was something that would always be true.

No matter what.

FIN


End file.
